


The Secret War

by njcov



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Death Eater Draco Malfoy, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Espionage, F/M, Human/Vampire Relationship, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:13:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 93,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26290024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/njcov/pseuds/njcov
Summary: Draco & Hermione. End of Year 4, Voldemort returns, the Wizarding War begins. Harry Potter does not return to Hogwarts. Dumbledore and Hermione are the only two people that know his whereabouts. Lucius tasks Draco with a special mission: "You will seduce the Granger girl. I don’t care how you do it, I don’t care how long it takes. Tell her you renounce your family, tell her you want no part in the Dark Lord's plan...tell her you need her help. You will make her love you Draco. You will win her trust, and then she will lead us to Potter.”
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 155
Kudos: 119





	1. Chapter 1

What are you looking at Granger? Draco thought to himself, as he shifted in his seat at the Slytherin table. Hermione’s glare was piercing and full of contempt. Draco looked away from her, nonplussed. He knew very well what she was thinking, and he didn’t care. She and the rest of the wizarding world would have to get used to the changes that were to come, now that Voldemort had returned.

Hermione’s hands were shaking. She tried to keep her glass steady but it was no use, she was too angry. Dumbledore had asked the students in the Great Hall to stand and honor Cedric’s memory with a toast, but many of the Slytherins had remained seated…defiant…flat out refusing to honor the boy that had died at the hands of Lord Voldemort.

She wasn’t the only Gryffindor to notice, but no one wanted to make a scene. They were all exhausted, tired from their sleepless nights of mourning Cedric, and wondering what was going to happen now that Voldemort had returned.

Hermione’s gaze fell on Malfoy. He was laughing at something Pansy Parkinson had whispered into his ear. Her eyes narrowed.

Malfoy and the other Slytherins would go home this summer, and listen to their parents plots…former Death Eaters now ready to rejoin Lord Voldemort. They would become accomplices to their parent’s crimes, then return to Hogwarts at summer’s end as if they had no part in anything at all…as if unspeakable horrors were not taking place outside the castle walls.

Hermione’s blood chilled as Draco’s gaze fell on her. He gave her a weary look, letting her know that her anger made no difference to him, Cedric’s death meant nothing to him. She wasn’t surprised, but still…there was something that unsettled her. Their meeting at the Yule Ball had shifted something between them, and it left her uneasy. She looked into her glass, and the sounds of the Great Hall faded away as she let her thoughts wander back to that night.

MONTHS EARLIER, THE YULE BALL

Ron was shouting at her but she was no longer listening. He was accusing her of betraying Harry by accepting Krum’s invitation to the ball. He thought she was helping him win the tournament. As if she wanted Viktor to win over Harry!

And speaking of Harry, he was no help. He was sitting next to the pair of them, staring up at the ceiling, hoping that the argument would end as quickly as possible.

Hermione stood. She’d had enough. Ron was completely irrational and he was spiraling out of control. She ran away from him, tears spilling down her face. Why did he have to ruin everything? It had been a perfect night with Krum, until now.

Hermione stormed out of the Great Hall. She knew he was jealous. She knew he wanted to ask her to the ball himself, but he didn’t have the guts. Ron was too afraid to tell her how he really felt, and she was tired of waiting.

“I see you got your teeth sorted out, Granger,” said a familiar, drawling voice.

Hermione froze. She had stormed blindly down the halls, not seeing where she was going. She spun around. Malfoy stood behind her, a smirk on his face. He was the last person she wanted to see, especially now that she was in tears and caught unawares.

She looked at him coldly, remembering the fight he’d had with Harry in the dungeons. They had tried to jinx each other and Malfoy’s spell ricocheted and hit her full in the face, causing her to sprout fangs. Luckily, Madam Pomfrey had sorted her out quite nicely.

Malfoy took notice of her tear-stained face. “Who made you cry Granger? I’d like to thank them personally.”

Hermione wiped the tears from her eyes and marched up to him. “Very funny Malfoy, why don’t you get lost and find your date? That is if there was anyone desperate enough to attend the ball with a ferret!”

She knew full well he’d taken Pansy Parkinson to the dance, but still, she enjoyed watching his face flush red with anger.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut across him.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be on my way…”

She pushed past him and thought that was the end of it, when he shouted, “Forgetting something, Granger?”

Keep walking she told herself, but curiosity got the better of her. She spun around. Malfoy was holding a pair of earrings in the palm of his hand. She recognized them at once. They were her mother’s earrings. She had leant them to her for the Yule Ball. They were an iridescent blue that matched perfectly with her periwinkle gown. She must have dropped them when she ran away from Ron.

“I thought you might like them back,” said Malfoy smiling, extending his palm out to her.

Hermione looked at him suspiciously and made to take the earrings, but he swiftly moved his hand out of reach. “Tell you what Granger,” he said, looking down at the earrings, “I’ll duel you for them.”

Hermione couldn’t believe her ears. First Ron, now this. She was exhausted. She hadn’t even said goodbye to Krum. All she wanted to do was go to her dormitory, shut out the lights and pretend the argument with Ron had never happened.

Malfoy stepped closer to her.

“Unless you don’t care for them, I’m sure my date, Pansy, would like them.”

Hermione’s blood chilled. She’d rather die than let Pansy Parkinson wear her mother’s earrings. She pulled out her wand. Malfoy did the same.

“Stupefy!”

“Protego!”

Malfoy ducked her spell and opened the door to a classroom behind him. He fled inside. Hermione chased after him.

It was pitch black inside and she let out a yelp of pain as she crashed into a desk.

“Lumos!” she shouted, and the lights went on. She looked around her but Malfoy was nowhere to be seen. Then a voice behind her shouted, “Expelliarmus!” Her wand flew out of her hand. Hermione spun around. Malfoy had shot up from behind a desk and disarmed her.

“Well, well Granger, that lasted all but what, two seconds?” he said, now holding her wand. “I have to say I expected a bit more out of you.”

“Give me back my wand Malfoy!” she shouted.

Draco laughed. Hermione looked uneasily at him, she could still hear music coming from the Great Hall. The dance hadn’t ended yet. If things got too out of hand she could call for help.

Malfoy seemed to read her mind. He smiled, an idea occurring to him. “Enjoying the ball, Granger? Why don’t you dance?”

“W-what??”

“Dance!” He raised his wand, “Voltare!”

Hermione started spinning uncontrollably. She collided into chairs, desks, and finally a large bookshelf, unsettling a heavy globe perched right at the top. She watched it teeter at the edge of the shelf…it was going to fall right on top of her…

Suddenly, something heavy crashed into her chest, and the wind was knocked out of her. It was Malfoy. He had raced towards her and pushed her out of the way. They both went flying backwards, as the globe landed on the floor with a sickening crash.

Hermione’s heart was pounding violently. Just a few seconds longer and she would have taken a blow to the head. Her brow furrowed. That globe looked like it weighed a ton, she could have been hurt! What was she doing here dueling with Malfoy, anyway? What did h—

That’s when she noticed something that horrified her. She and Malfoy were standing impossibly close. His hands were at her waist, and she could feel his chest rise and fall. His heart was pounding as loudly as her own. Their eyes locked and all Hermione could think to do was yell at him.

“You could have killed me! You stupid git!” she shouted, pushing him away with more force than was necessary.

Malfoy’s eyes widened in shock, then he recovered himself and stood to his full height. “You should be thanking me Granger,” he said dusting off his robes, as if touching her had contaminated him in some way. “I could have easily let that globe fall on that bushy head of yours.”

Hermione let out a scream. “You are insufferable!” She lunged at him and made to wrench the earrings out of his hand. Malfoy held her at arm’s length, but she was tired of playing nice. She kicked him hard in the leg. He howled in pain and started hopping up and down on one foot. She prized the earrings from his hand and made for the door, but not before he grabbed the skirt of her gown and yanked her backwards.

They both landed in a heap on the floor. Hermione saw her wand hanging out of Malfoy’s pocket. She reached for it and managed to take hold, but then Malfoy seized her arm and they struggled with each other.

At that moment the door flew open and Viktor Krum stumbled inside. “I heard shouting, I—” he stopped dead as took in the sight before him. “Herm-own-ninny! Let go of her!”

Viktor pulled out his wand and aimed it at Malfoy.

Malfoy glared at him and reluctantly released his hold on Hermione’s arm.

“Viktor don’t! It’s not worth it,” pleaded Hermione, rushing to his side.

Malfoy hurried to stand and Viktor marched up to him. Malfoy paled. Krum was a whole head taller than him.

Hermione tugged at Victor’s arm. “Malfoy stole my wand, but I have it back now. Let’s just go, okay?”

Krum gave Malfoy a searing look, before letting Hermione steer him out of the room. Hermione looked over her shoulder, Malfoy shot her a warning glare letting her know that things weren’t over between them just yet.

Hermione raged all the way back to the Great Hall, shouting obscenities about Malfoy, but Krum was silent.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

Krum stopped walking. “First Harry, and the article that Skeeter lady wrote, saying you ver together…and now theese blonde boy. How many boyfriends do you haff Herm-own-ninny?”

Hermione’s mouth dropped open in shock. “If that’s what you really think of me then—then going to the ball together was a mistake.” And with that she stormed off to the girl’s dormitory, leaving Krum looking crestfallen.

PRESENT DAY, GREAT HALL

Hermione refused to be grateful to Malfoy for pushing her out of harm’s way, seeing as he had put her in that predicament in the first place. Still…he could have let her get hurt. So why didn’t he? Was it an involuntary impulse? Fear of a life sentence in Azkaban in the event of her death? Or was it what she feared?

Throughout their years at Hogwarts Malfoy had always insulted her. His words were cutting and cruel, but there were times when she caught him staring at her in class, in the halls or during dinner. Also the night she made her entrance at the Yule Ball. She had always told herself he was only thinking up new ways to torture her, but after the ball she couldn’t ignore the truth.

She had some kind of hold over Draco Malfoy.

She didn’t know exactly what he felt towards her--curiosity or obsession--but she would use it to her advantage.

A war was about to begin, and information was power. She didn’t know how, but when the next term started she would gain Malfoy’s confidence, and learn his family’s plans. It wouldn’t be easy, but she had to try. She knew Lucius had been one of Voldemort’s top supporters in the past, why shouldn’t he be again?

Her parents were muggles, and they were in danger. She wouldn’t let people like the Malfoys tear her world apart. She’d pass any information she had to Dumbledore, Harry and the Order. She knew they had already set their own plans in motion to stop Voldemort.

She just had to devise a solid plan over the summer, and when term started she’d put it into action. She only hoped Hogwarts was still standing by that time.

SUMMER, MALFOY MANOR

“The papers have confirmed it, Potter won’t be returning to Hogwarts,” said Lucius, slamming a copy of the Daily Prophet down on his desk. “No doubt Dumbledore has stashed him away somewhere.”

“I don’t see why anyone is going back to school at all,” said Draco lazily, sitting across from his father and playing with a thread on the edge of his sleeve.

His father ignored him. “We will find out where he’s hiding. Our good standing with the Dark Lord depends on it. But we must not arouse suspicion. We can’t be seen to take sides, at least not yet. And that’s where you come in.”

“I don’t understand,” said Draco wearily, suddenly giving his father his full attention.

“The Granger girl is key. She must know where Potter is hiding,” Lucius looked at his son as if seeing him for the first time. “It’s a relatively simple task the Dark Lord asks of you.”

Malfoy knew exactly what his father was implying.

He shook his head. “It would never work, she’s too clever.”

“More clever than you?!”

“You expect me to entangle myself with that mudblood--”

“The Dark Lord has risen and we will gain information in whatever way we can. You will seduce the Granger girl. I don’t care how you do it, I don’t care how long it takes. Tell her you renounce your family, tell her you want no part in the Dark Lords plan...tell her you need her help. You will make her love you Draco. You will win her trust, and then she will lead us to Potter.”

Draco gazed into his father’s face, he observed the heavy lines on his forehead, the streaks of white in his hair…brought on by years of plotting to rise higher and higher in power. He didn’t care who he served--Voldemort or a wealthy politician--as long as it meant a personal gain that’s all that mattered.

“You know the consequences for us if you fail,” said Lucius gravely. “Voldemort is not one to forgive. And we must survive by any means necessary.”

Draco knew that by the end of the war, neither one of them would be the same. For better or worse he did not know. All he knew was that everything was going to change.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected turn of events leaves students panicking on the Hogwarts Express.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to OrnamentalFan, CarrieMaxwell, Moo_Events, and coffeewalnutcakes for your reviews on the last chapter!! Your positive thoughts mean so much!!

Platform 9 ¾ looked nothing like Hermione remembered. The Ministry had sent a battalion of Aurors to patrol the station. They looked like a large swarm of angry bees, keeping a close eye on everyone. The tension in the air was palpable. Parents were barely given enough time to say goodbye to their children, before Aurors rushed them in line to board the Hogwarts Express. Ministry officials were also taking down names, making note of every student that was returning to Hogwarts.

The Ministry had launched an extensive campaign over the summer, assuring parents that Hogwarts was the safest place for their children, safer than their own homes. They had heightened security around the castle, and placed a number of enchantments, even added the Hogwarts Guard, a group of specially trained Aurors to protect the castle. But despite their many promises, Hermione knew the truth. No one was safe anymore, not even at Hogwarts.

Many parents thought the same. The most skeptical had decided to send their children abroad, to foreign wizarding schools, while some students simply remained at home.

Still, a good number had decided to return.

Hermione spotted Ron at the other end of the station, saying goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

“I’ll send you a letter by owl as soon as I get to Hogwarts,” said Hermione, hugging her parents. “Arling will take you back home.”

Upon Dumbledore’s request, the Ministry had assigned an Auror to her parents, and another to Ron’s family at the Burrow. As Harry’s closest friends, their families ran the highest risk of kidnap and torture by Voldemort’s followers. She tried not to think of the endless count of murders that were reported over the summer. At one point she’d stopped reading the papers, as it had all become too much. She made sure to tell her parents the truth of the situation, feeling that they deserved to know, and hoped they would remain safe while she was away.

“We love you,” Hermione’s mother whispered into her ear.

Hermione hugged both her parents tightly. She didn’t want to let go, but then an Auror appeared at her shoulder. “It’s time to board the train now,” he said.

Hermione nodded and followed him to the Hogwarts Express. She gave her name to the Ministry official at the front of the train, then climbed on board.

Ron was waiting for her inside, and as they walked down the corridor everyone started to stare.

“Think they know where Harry is?” whispered a 2nd year Gryffindor to his brother.

“It looks like Potter left his friends behind to fend for themselves,” said a Slytherin girl loudly. Her friends laughed.

Hermione pretended not to hear.

“Over here,” said Ron, motioning Hermione into an empty compartment. He helped her with her suitcase then shut the compartment door behind them.

“How was your summer?” asked Hermione quickly, hoping Ron wouldn’t dwell on what the Slytherin girl had said. She looked out the window, and watched as her parents left the platform with Arling.

“Never had a moment of privacy,” said Ron, slumping down into the seat opposite her. The Auror the Ministry assigned us was way too jumpy. “Mum was cooking in the kitchen one morning, got distracted and dropped a couple pans, and he stormed into the Burrow, wand at the ready, thinking we’d been attacked.”

“Look,” said Hermione, gesturing to the window. Eight of the Aurors were boarding the train, ready to escort the students to Hogwarts. The other twenty remained behind.

“Blimey,” said Ron, watching them board. “Ministry sure is tightening up security, aren’t they?”

Hermione nodded, and Ron looked at her, choosing his next words carefully.

“Why did Dumbledore tell you and not me?”

“Tell me what?” asked Hermione.

“About Harry, and his mission.”

“I don’t know, maybe he supposed it was safer if only one of us knew.”

Ron was silent, he was clearly not satisfied with her answer. “Well I suppose Harry’s safe,” he said finally. “But still, I don’t see why I’ve been kept in the dark.”

Hermione glowered at Ron. She wanted to tell him that Harry was not safely tucked away, instead he was risking his life abroad, recruiting an army with the Order. An army for Dumbledore and the Ministry. An army for them all.

She thought back to the argument she’d had with Dumbledore months earlier.

“He’s only fifteen!” she had shouted, when Dumbledore told her his plans.

“You will find,” Dumbledore had calmly answered, “There are things I can’t disclose, and Harry is well aware of what he will face. He didn’t want to leave without one of you knowing where he was going.”

“Why tell me and not Ron?”

“Mr. Weasley is a loyal friend to Harry,” said Dumbledore. “But he is impulsive, and that can be dangerous in times such as these.”

“And Harry is the only one that can complete this mission?”

Dumbledore nodded.

In a way Hermione understood. Although Harry had only been a baby, he was the one who had taken Voldemort’s power before, and he was the only one that could convince people to rally against him now.

“And now, Ms. Granger, we must discuss how you can help Harry, if you are willing.” Hermione nodded and Dumbledore told her his plans. She also took the opportunity to tell him her plans for Malfoy, and Dumbledore did not reject her idea, but he advised caution.

“You must tread carefully, Ms. Granger. Although Draco is arrogant and vain, we must concede that he is intelligent, and not easily fooled. I would not want you to put yourself in harm’s way.”

Hermione had assured him that she would be careful.

She knew all this secrecy was killing Ron.

She looked at him. He was sitting right across from her, but it felt like he was miles away.

A few compartments further down the train, Malfoy was sitting across from Theodore Nott. The boy kept fidgeting in his seat and tapping his foot nervously. 

“Is something wrong?” asked Malfoy, irritated.

“Coming back was a mistake,” said Nott flatly.

“Returning to Hogwarts is the best way to avoid suspicion,” said Malfoy, his voice low.

Nott shook his head. “Things are going to get bad very fast.”

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. He had never seen Nott panic before. “What are you worried about?”

“If things go wrong…for our side, who do you think Dumbledore and the Ministry are going to question first? They can hold us for ransom, torture us for information, until our parents give in to their demands. Hogwarts is the worst possible place to be caught if things go wrong. We’d be trapped.”

Draco laughed. “Dumbledore? Torture students? He’d never do it, it’s not his way…not in his line of thinking. And he wouldn’t allow the Ministry to do it either.”

“Dumbledore isn’t Minister of Magic, is he?” Nott persisted. “They’re desperate to catch Voldemort, I don’t think there’s anything they wouldn’t do.”

“Why don’t you ease up mate? It’s a long ride back to Hogwarts, and I don’t fancy your attitude.”

Nott looked out the window, looking much like a man preparing for his own hanging.

Pathetic, thought Malfoy as he turned away from him. Nott was cracking already and they hadn’t even set foot in Hogwarts.

“I’m hungry,” said Ron. “Fancy anything from the cart?”

“I—” began Hermione. Her words were cut short by a deafening explosion. The whole train shuddered, and they both fell forward.

“Are you alright?” yelled Ron, helping her up.

They heard screams.

“What’s going on?” someone outside shouted.

They opened the compartment door and ventured outside, looking for the source of the explosion.

A group of Aurors were blasting spells at the end of the corridor. A student was hysterical, and they were all standing around her, trying to calm her down. She dodged their spells and aimed her wand at them.

“I WANT TO GET OFF THE TRAIN! NOW!”

Hermione recognized the girl, it was Hannah Abbott.

“What is it?” asked Ron, spotting Neville in the compartment further down.

“It’s terrible,” Neville shouted, “the news just came over the Wizarding Wireless Network. There was an attack on King’s Cross. It happened just after we left. Hannah’s parents were killed. She wants to go back to the station.”

Hermione felt the world slow down, and she hung onto Ron’s arm for support.

“Was anyone else killed?” asked Ron.

“We don’t know, said Neville, “the attack hasn’t ended.”

“I’ll be right back,” Ron told Hermione, hurrying forward to get more information from Neville. Hermione felt dizzy, she had seen her parents leave Platform 9 ¾ but had they made it out of the station? She took a step backwards.

“Watch where you’re going!”

She had bumped into someone. She turned. “Sorry, I—” She stopped short. It was Malfoy.

He opened his mouth to yell at her, then stopped when he saw the commotion at the end of the corridor. “What’s the matter with her?” he asked distracted, looking over Hermione’s shoulder.

Hannah Abbott had been seized by three Aurors. She was writhing, trying to break free from their grasp, and she was red in the face from screaming. Finally they all shot stunning spells at her, and she crashed to the floor, landing on her back. Her eyes were stretched wide in horror and her mouth hung open, a look of shock on her face.

The students in the corridor started to panic, and they all began talking at once.

“What if the train is attacked? Maybe we should get off?” started a Hufflepuff.

“We have to go back for our parents,” exclaimed another student. “We have to help them!”

“SILENCE!” an Auror shouted, storming down the corridor. “Get back to your compartments! No one is getting off this train!”

Hermione tried to get back to Ron, but an Auror blocked her way, and opened the compartment to his right. “Get inside!” he yelled at her, Draco, and a 2nd year Ravenclaw standing behind them. He opened the door. “No one exits their compartment until we arrive at Hogwarts. Now!”

The three of them went inside and the Auror shut the door firmly behind them.

Hermione tried the handle. It was locked. “Alohomora,” she said, pointing her wand at the door. It didn’t budge.

Malfoy sat down. “You don’t really think that will work, do you Granger?”

Hermione ignored him, then saw that the Ravenclaw girl was in a terrible state. Her hands were shaking and she was gasping for air like a fish out of water.

“What is it?” Hermione asked the girl, fearing she was having a panic attack.

“My brother dropped me off at that station, and I’m—I’m worried that he’s—”

Dead? Thought Draco to himself. No doubt a likely possibility. He supposed Voldemort hadn’t resisted the temptation of attacking a large group of Aurors. They had made it too easy for him. So many gathered in one place, with no easy escape route. And no doubt more than a few bystanders would die in the crossfire.

“You can’t think that way,” said Hermione. “You just have to be calm—”

The girl pushed Hermione out of the way, and made for the door, pounding her fists on it. “Let us out!! Please, let us out!”

Hermione grabbed the girl by the back of her robes, forcing her to sit. “What’s your name?”

“Millie,” she mumbled, crying uncontrollably.

“Try to relax, everything’s going to be fine. Here, take—”

“Oh for the love of Merlin!” shouted Malfoy. “Somnum!” 

A jet of blue light issued from his wand, and hit the girl squarely in the face. The Ravenclaw girl slumped in her seat, rendered unconscious.

Hermione looked at him in disbelief. “That was hardly the right thing to do,” she said, an edge in her voice.

“Better than hearing her yell her head off all the way to Hogwarts,” Draco said calmly, making Hermione believe he was simply annoyed. The truth was that he couldn’t stand to hear the girl’s cries, she reminded him of the endless screams he had endured at Malfoy Manor over the summer. His father had tortured several witches and wizards at Voldemort’s request, people who had disappointed him, or betrayed him in some way. Their cries of agony and his father’s merciless laughter still rang in his head.

Hermione made the girl comfortable, then sat down. She wanted to give Malfoy a piece of her mind, but she would use this moment alone with him to her benefit. She momentarily pushed her fears for her parents to the back of her mind, and tried to focus. No doubt Malfoy knew about the attack at King’s Cross before it happened. Maybe he knew of attacks that were still to come.

She snuck a glance at him, Malfoy looked calm and collected as always, leaning back against the window, wisps of blonde hair falling casually across his forehead, his gray eyes unreadable.

“I know what you think I am,” said Malfoy slowly, meeting her gaze. He folded his arms across his chest. “You think I’m a potential Death Eater, a traitor, a liar. Am I wrong?”

Hermione raised an eyebrow in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to be so candid. He was up to something, that was for sure, but she would play along.

“Aren’t you?” she asked, holding his gaze without fear.

“Because I wear this uniform?” he asked, pointing at the Slytherin crest on his robes. “Because my father is Lucius Malfoy and I must be exactly like him? No mind of my own, a puppet?”

Hermione was caught off guard, she hadn’t expected a wave of questions.

Quick as lightning, Draco reached for her wrist and pulled her forward. She gasped, struggling for balance. He had dragged her halfway out of her seat.

“You know nothing about me, Hermione,” Draco said vehemently. He paused. He had started the conversation to unsettle her, but he found he meant every word.

Hermione looked at him in surprise, he had never called her by her first name.

“Why don’t you say it out loud?” Draco persisted, “Call me a Death Eater to my face.”

Hermione looked at him, unsure of what to say. All she knew was that she refused to stoop to his level.

Draco tightened his grip on her arm. “Your silence doesn’t make you better than me,” he said icily, reading her mind. It makes you a coward.”

“Enough!” she shouted, wrenching herself free from his grasp. “You were there when the Dark Mark was conjured at the World Cup. You knew what was going to happen that night, you wanted people to get hurt.”

“Wrong again,” said Malfoy, a smile on his face now. The night of the cup, I warned you…you and your friends, to keep your head down. Especially you, a—muggleborn.”

Hermione looked at him incredulously. He was twisting everything. “That’s not tr—”

“Really?” he challenged. “What were my words, exactly?”

Hermione racked her brain, then grudgingly repeated what Malfoy had told them that night in the forest. “You told us to hurry along. You told us the Death Eaters were after Muggles.”

“So you do remember.”

He smiled inwardly, seeing the seed of doubt take hold in her mind. He leaned further back in his seat, and stared out the window. His father underestimated him. He’d have Granger in his power sooner than he expected.

Hermione knew the conversation was over. She did not believe Malfoy was innocent for one second. By the smirk on his face, she could tell he thought he’d won the argument. He had mistaken her confusion for doubt. But she had no doubts, Malfoy was up to no good, that was for sure. She realized his arrogance was his weakness, and suddenly, an idea occurred to her…

Hours later the Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade station. Hermione opened her eyes, she had fallen asleep. She looked around her. Malfoy had already left the compartment. Millie was still next to her, unconscious. She shook the girl awake.

“Wake up Millie, we’re here now. We have to get off the train.”

As Hermione stepped off the train, she saw that the students were arguing with the Aurors, some demanding to get back on the Hogwarts Express, determined to return to London and find out what had happened to their parents.

A tall woman in yellow robes approached. “My name is Romena Wright. I am head of the Hogwarts Guard, appointed by the Minister of Magic. Listen to me, you are the future of the magical community in this country. Your safety is of the utmost importance to us. I know you are all concerned for your relatives, but no one is going back. We will let you know the minute we receive news from London.”

Many of the students exclaimed in anger, but she held a hand up to silence them.

“You should also know, there will be no trips to Hogsmeade this year. Curfew will be at eight o’clock, and you may only walk the school grounds for lessons. Members of the guard will be patrolling the castle at all hours.”

“You can’t hold us here against our will!” shouted a 7th year.

“Believe me, I can,” said the woman. “And I will, for your own safety.”

“I can’t believe this,” Dean Thomas whispered to Hermione.

“It’s bloody ridiculous,” Ron agreed, making his way over to them. “Are you ok?” he asked Hermione. “I didn’t see you after I talked to Neville.”

Hermione nodded. The students made their way to the carriages. Someone helped Hannah into one. She had woken up, and she was beside herself with grief.

“I told you,” said Nott, as he and Malfoy stepped into a carriage. “They’re fashioning this place into a fortress. A prison.”

As Hogwarts loomed before them, Draco wondered if Nott was right. Still, there was no going back. There was too much at stake for him, too much relying on the success of his mission, and the only way was forward.

He spotted Hermione as her carriage passed him. She was staring at him, the ghost of a smile on her lips. She was planning something, he was sure, and he was going to find out what it was.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The order sends a letter to Hermione. Astronomy class proves a useful tool. And a night flight leads to a surprising moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter!

The list of the fallen were reported the following day. Two Aurors, three Muggles and Hannah's parents had been killed. Several more were injured, and were sent to St. Mungo's Hospital.

The Hogwarts Guard, in their yellow uniforms, spread through the halls and corridors of Hogwarts like a massive flood. Filch was affronted by their presence. His prime function at the school had been to harass students, and now there was a whole army to do it for him. His life's purpose suddenly taken away, he let Peeves reign free, taking delight when the poltergeist dumped buckets of cold water on members of the Guard at random.

In the Slytherin common room, Draco opened a letter from his father. It was written in code. A seemingly harmless note to the outward eye, contained a secret message.

The Guard had been reading all the mail coming into Hogwarts, intercepting owls and breaking seals, stopping at nothing to catch anyone who might be communicating with Voldemort or his followers.

The note informed him that Pansy had been given a special assignment. Draco continued reading, trying to figure out exactly what she was required to do. The more he read, the angrier he became. He couldn't believe her family was letting her handle such an important mission. There was no way she was up to the task. He had to talk her out of it, and convince her to let him do it himself.

He burned the note and went to find her.

In the Gryffindor common room, Hermione was decoding a note of her own. Over the summer Dumbledore informed her that she'd receive several messages throughout the year. The messages contained assignments, sent anonymously by members of the Order, Harry or Dumbledore himself. Each was sealed with the image of a Phoenix.

The message was in the form of a poem. She took note of every third letter in the first 5 stanzas, and every two in the last three.

She deciphered the message. The note confirmed that Pansy Parkinson was delivering a note from her father to a member of the Hogwarts Guard…a John Murdoch. Apparently the Order suspected that Murdoch was working for the Death Eaters. It alarmed Hermione that a member of the Guard might be working for the other side. And worse, how many more like him were there? Hermione continued reading. The note stated that it was vital that Pansy's message never reach its destination, otherwise the consequences would be devastating. Hermione couldn't help but wonder what the note contained.

Dumbledore had told her that she'd never be given the full details of her assignments, only the most necessary information, for her own security and that of those involved. It made her uneasy not to know everything, but she trusted Dumbledore, and tried not to dwell on what she wasn't told.

Hermione reached for her class schedule. She and Pansy were both in Professor Sinistra's Astronomy class. If Pansy was delivering the message at noon, she'd likely deliver it right after the lesson was over.

Hermione made her way to the Astronomy Tower, determined to get a hold of the note. The class consisted mainly of Ravenclaws, a handful of Gryffindors, one Hufflepuff and two Slytherins: Pansy and Malfoy. Malfoy received top marks in the class, while Pansy barely scraped by.

Hermione suspected Pansy only joined to keep an eye on Draco. She had caught him kissing a very pretty Ravenclaw girl after class the previous year, and had made a scene so terrible...the teachers were required to intervene.

Hermione took a seat next to Neville, and focused her attention on Professor Sinistra.

The professor had clear blue eyes, and red-gold hair pulled back in an elegant braid.

"For those of you who are new, welcome to the study of the planets and the stars. This year we will explore distant galaxies…found in the furthest reaches of the universe," she paused. "Galaxies that Muggles can only dream of exploring," she said, looking disdainfully at the Muggleborns in the class.

Professor Sinistra was a pureblood, and while not as vile as Professor Snape in her treatment of muggleborn students, she liked to flaunt the superiority of wizarding knowledge whenever she could.

"Now you will work with the person sitting next to you, and chart the stars and planets of the Alcibiades galaxy…"

Hermione watched Draco and Pansy talking in hushed tones at their table. They seemed to be debating something.

"Have you lost your mind?" said Draco loudly, forgetting to keep his voice down.

Could it be about the note? Hermione wondered. She glanced at Pansy's school bag, no doubt the message was safely tucked away inside.

Professor Sinistra marched over to the two Slytherins. "I require total concentration in this class. Be silent and apply yourselves. I'm surprised at you Draco," she said, an eyebrow raised. He was one of her favorite students.

"Forgive me, Professor," he said in his most charming voice.

For the next ten minutes, they worked very quietly. Hermione looked away and pretended to focus on her chart.

"Do you suppose this is where the planet Goran should be?" Neville asked her. "Or is it Tanith?"

"I think it's Tanith," said Hermione absentmindedly.

Suddenly she heard Pansy say. "You can't! Not again!"

"Very well," said Professor Sinistra approaching the Slytherin table once more, "You're each getting a new partner."

Professor Sinistra's gaze fell on Lavender Brown and Padma Patil, seated together at a table in the far corner of the room. "Ms. Brown, come to the front if you please, I need you to switch with—"

"But Professor, we've nearly completed our chart," Lavender pleaded. "It wouldn't be fair. We've already done all the work."

"I'll switch with Malfoy," Hermione offered, hoping to get partnered with Pansy and steal the note from her bag when she wasn't looking.

Neville looked at her like she'd stabbed him in the back. "But we're almost finished with ours too," he whispered.

"No," said Professor Sinistra. "You'll partner with Draco. Parkinson go with Longbottom."

"But Professor!"

"Now!"

Hermione watched as Pansy grabbed her charts, and grudgingly slung her bag over her shoulder.

She made her way over to them. Hermione's eyes were glued to the bag. It was so close she could almost reach it…

"Better Longbottom than a Mudblood for a partner," said Pansy under her breath, as she passed Hermione.

Hermione flinched but made no comment. She gathered her things and walked over to Malfoy's desk, furious with herself. She had missed a precious opportunity to get her hands on that note.

"Granger."

"Malfoy," she said evenly.

He glanced sideways at her. "I had no idea you fancied Pansy for a partner," he said. "Don't have enough friends of your own? Must be a solitary life with your head buried in all those books. And now with Potter gone, I suppose there's only Weasley to talk to. Not very bright is he?"

Hermione wanted to slap Malfoy, but instead she said, "I just thought I'd save you and Pansy the embarrassment, seeing as no one wanted a Slytherin for a partner."

"How self-sacrificing ," said Draco, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"It's not a sacrifice," Hermione began. "I'm glad we were partnered," she said, taking the opportunity to set the trap she had planned for him. She had intended to approach him later in the day, but now was as good a time as any.

"And why is that?" Draco asked, expecting a clever retort.

There was a long pause. It took every ounce of determination for Hermione to force the words out. She had to say them, she just had to do it. "Because I want to apologize," she said finally. "For what I said on the train the other day."

Inside she was screaming, she never in a million years imagined she'd ever have to apologize to Draco Malfoy, of all people. But it was for the greater good, she reminded herself. It had to be done.

"Excuse me, Granger I thought I heard you say—"

"I don't think you're a pleasant person," she continued, "You have foul manners, you're arrogant, conceited, pompous—"

"I thought this was an apology?" interrupted Draco.

"But…" continued Hermione, "that doesn't mean you're exactly like your father, or that you'll become a Death Eater," she finished, making sure to keep her voice low, so that the students around them wouldn't hear. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Pansy watching them intently.

Draco frowned at her. Had hell suddenly frozen over? Granger's expression was sincere, and the light from the windows lit up her hair a lovely golden brown, giving her an angelic appearance. An angel with sinister intentions, he thought. What they were, he didn't know yet.

"I'm pleased you've admitted you were wrong," he said finally. "I know how hard that must have been. Know-it-all that you are."

She clenched her fists in anger. Keep it together she told herself. Don't lose your temper. She looked away from him and grabbed hold of her quill, ready to start work on the chart in front of her.

"But all the same," he said, placing a hand over hers to stop her from writing, "I'm glad that you did." He looked at her with an intensity that made her lose her focus.

The spell was broken when Professor Sinistra announced the end of class.

"Attention please!"

Draco released her hand and she turned away. Pansy was still staring at them, her eyes narrowed into slits.

"I'd also like charts on the Zagros galaxy in addition to the ones you started in class, on my desk by next lesson," said Professor Sinistra. "If you did your summer reading, it shouldn't be too difficult."

The whole class grumbled.

"We can meet in the library later today to finish the charts," Hermione offered. She looked over her shoulder, Pansy was already making her way to the door. She had to hurry. "Six o' clock, don't be late."

"And if I don't show?" Draco challenged.

"Then good luck finding another partner," said Hermione. And with that, she turned on her heel and left the tower.

She raced down the spiral staircase and into the hall, trying to see which way Pansy had gone. She spotted her walking down the next corridor, and down a set of stairs. She followed her all the way to the third floor, where a large group of 2nd years were leaving Professor Binns' History of Magic class.

She pushed past the 2nd Years, and saw Pansy approach a member of the Guard, a very tall woman with long blonde hair.

"I'm looking for John Murdoch," said Pansy.

"He didn't report in today, you can check back tomorrow when he's on duty."

"You don't understand," said Pansy suddenly alarmed. "I have to see him today."

"He's not available," the blonde woman repeated firmly.

"This is ridiculous. Tell me where to find him!" shouted Pansy, a look of panic on her face.

"I'll do no such thing," said the guard. "Move along to your next class."

Pansy opened her mouth to protest, but the Guard cut her off.

"If you persist, I'll have to take you to Romena Wright. For questioning—"

"That won't be necessary," Pansy spat, and she stormed off, headed for the Slytherin common room.

Hermione ran after her, but the halls were filled with students making their way to the Great Hall for lunch, and by the time she caught up to Pansy in the dungeons, she was already making her way through the stone door that led to the Slytherin common room.

The door shut firmly behind Pansy with a resounding thud.

Hermione was out of breath, she'd just have to corner Pansy the next morning. If she didn't meet with Murdoch before classes, then she'd steal the note from her during Astronomy, only this time she'd create a diversion to ensure that she was successful.

Later that evening, Hermione waited for Draco at the appointed time in front of the library. She looked at her watch. He was twenty minutes late. She was beginning to doubt if he was going to show. She tapped her foot impatiently, then spotted him walking down the hall, his broom in hand.

"Hope you haven't been waiting long, Granger," he said, no trace of sincerity in his voice.

"Why did you bring that?" she asked, pointing at the broom.

"I don't know, I thought, why not work outside, where we can actually see the sky?"

Hermione laughed. "I don't think so."

Draco sighed. "Where's your sense of adventure? Or do you only live vicariously…through your books?"

He saw her wince. He had hit a nerve.

Hermione glowered at him. Under normal circumstances she would have sent him to hell, but she had a mission to accomplish and she was determined to see it through. "Very well," she said, folding her arms. "And how do you propose to get past the Guard?"

"It shouldn't be too difficult," he said, taking a step closer to her, "If you stick with me and do what you're told."

"I'm afraid you have me confused for a house elf," she said icily.

Draco rolled his eyes at her. "No one would mistake you for a house elf. I doubt you're capable of staying quiet for more than two seconds." He took a full minute to appreciate her face turn a violent shade of purple, then said, "Let's go."

They made their way to the Astronomy Tower. No one stopped them on the first few floors, assuming they were headed for their common rooms. They were out of uniform, in regular clothes, and the Guards didn't realize Draco belonged in Slytherin.

There were two guards patrolling the corridor just below the Astronomy Tower.

Draco reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small gold object with red stripes across it. Hermione recognized it as a Ticking Time Bomb.

"Stand back," he whispered to Hermione. He took aim towards the door at the end of the hall, threw the device, and three seconds later a very loud BANG sounded in the corridor.

The guards crouched down and covered their heads, expecting the ceiling to cave in.

Instead, a red mist filled the hall, obscuring their vision for several minutes. When the mist finally cleared, the first guard ran towards the door, and the other started to follow, but then Hermione stepped backwards into a suit of armor, causing it to fall over with a loud CLANG.

Hermione froze. Draco had ducked into an alcove, and he was looking at her with an expression of mingled frustration and horror. He reached forward and grabbed her by the waist. The Guard turned around just as she whipped out of sight.

Hermione's back was pressed to Draco's chest. He leaned forward and whispered into her ear, "Don't move."

The guard walked in their direction.

Hermione swallowed. Draco's breath was warm against her skin, and his lips brushed her ear. She felt a small shiver travel down her spine.

The guard passed the alcove, and looked at the fallen suit of armor, then into the room beyond. When he saw that it was empty, he figured that the suit must have tipped over off its own accord, and left to follow his companion.

When the coast was clear, Hermione pulled away from Draco.

"I don't know why I let you talk me into this stupid—"

"You're the one who nearly got us caught," he hissed, taking hold of her hand. "Let's go."

They climbed up the spiral staircase that led to the Astronomy Tower, stepped inside the classroom and shut the door behind them. Draco wasted no time, and forced open a window.

"Come on," he said.

They climbed through the window and stepped out onto the terrace. There were several large Looking Scopes aimed at the night sky.

"We'll go out by the lake," said Draco.

"Why not stay here?" suggested Hermione, gesturing to the Looking Scopes.

"The guards might circle back, we can't risk it."

He mounted the broom and waited for her. She approached him, then hesitated. Was he really taking her to the lake, or did he intend to murder her in the dead of night? Not likely, she thought. Not with the Guard on high alert.

She sat behind him on the broom, and looked uncertainly over the edge of the tower. It was easily a 700 foot drop. She felt her stomach turn over. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea…

"Granger?"

"Hmm?" she replied.

"You have to hold on, unless you fancy flying off the end."

"Right," she said. "Off course." She circled her arms around Malfoy's waist, but still kept a safe distance, sitting an inch away from him.

He laughed, grabbed her arms and pulled them tighter around his middle, forcing her to edge forward on the broom, thus closing the space between their bodies.

"Scared, Granger?" he whispered.

"I'm not—"

Before she could finish he kicked off and they soared into the night sky.

Hermione screamed. She had always hated flying. She didn't know how Harry managed in Quidditch, especially during that storm in third year when he had almost fallen to his death.

The guards patrolling the grounds looked like tiny dots. She was hanging onto Malfoy for dear life now, as they went higher and higher into the air. It didn't help that he was making a big effort to show off. Making the broom swerve this way and that, and finally spinning them into a loop.

He circled the lake a few times, making sure there weren't any guards nearby, then landed gracefully by the water's edge.

He dismounted and offered her his hand. She pushed it away.

"There was no need to fly like—like that!" she yelled.

"Quiet," he warned. "Or do you want to alert the Guard that we've left the castle?"

She got off the broom and stepped away from him. She felt the world spin. He reached forward and caught her before she fell.

"Steady now, Granger," he cautioned.

His arms were strong, and she was tempted to let him hold her until her head stopped spinning, but their sudden proximity made her self-conscious.

"I'm perfectly alright," she said, pushing him away. But she wasn't. It felt like the ground was still moving. She slung her bag off her shoulder and made to sit by the lake. As she tried to get her bearings, Draco watched her from afar.

It wasn't going to be easy to win her confidence. Not with their history. And there was something he couldn't figure out. She had apologized to him in class. She seemed to want to change things between them, and yet…she constantly kept her guard up. What was it? he wondered, That Granger really wanted?

Eventually, Hermione took out her charts, a textbook, and a quill, avoiding eye contact with him the whole time.

"Well," she said, finally inviting him to sit next to her. "We should get started."

Draco sat beside her and looked at the chart she had laid out on the ground.

He looked up at the sky, "It says here we need to find the planet Alcander."

Hermione cracked open her Astronomy book and started looking for information on the planet's galaxy.

"No need for that," said Draco, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a miniature gold Looking Scope with four lenses.

"Look through the fourth lens," he said.

Hermione gasped as he held the lens up to her, it suddenly felt as though the whole world had zoomed forward and propelled her into the night sky.

Through the lens she spotted the planet Alcander. It's colors were bright turquoise and vivid gold. The planet seemed to be surrounded by a circular ring of white light. "It's incredible," she whispered.

"The planet's colors are meant to lure the unsuspecting traveler," said Malfoy. "Dangerous creatures live there, sea monsters and the like."

She knew Wizards had explored the universe, and gone much further than Muggles, but she hadn't found any books at Hogwarts detailing their travels. She figured the Ministry wanted to keep the information private, to what end…she could only imagine.

"How do you know so much about all this?" she asked Draco, surprised.

"My mother always liked Astronomy. We'd sit outside the manor for hours. She taught me about the stars, the planets, the galaxies." His face lit up. "She told me the best Astronomers are in Egypt. They have the most advanced Looking Scopes there. The Luxor Scope is the only way you can see the Lasthenia galaxy, it's the galaxy at the end of the universe. No one's ever been there, it's too far even for wizards to reach, but it's said to have the most extraordinary planet. Colors you can't even imagine. Some are even driven mad by it."

"Will you go there sometime?" asked Hermione. "To Luxor?"

"Maybe one day," said Draco. "After the war is over."

"And your mother? Will she go with you?"

"She's not interested in the stars anymore. She's…changed over the years." Draco's brow furrowed. His father had made sure of that. He paused for a minute, trying to keep this anger at bay.

"And your father?" Hermione ventured, sensing he didn't have many good things to say about him.

"My father…let's just say we don't sit down to tea and swap stories."

He was quiet. Hermione understood now his interest in Astronomy. It reminded him of a simpler time, when his mother was well and he was happy. Hermione sensed that he didn't want to elaborate further.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I can't imagine what that's like, not being able to count on the people that should always be there."

"But you can," he replied.

"What do you mean?"

"Potter," said Malfoy slowly. "In the end, he decided to save his own skin instead of stand by you and Weasley, his so called friends." He shook his head. "There was so much talk about him before he came to Hogwarts. The Boy Who Lived…" Draco smirked. "He turned out to be an average wizard, worried for his own mortality. Nothing more."

Hermione looked at Malfoy in disbelief, he was making Harry out to be some sort of coward. "You don't know anything about him," she said sternly. "Harry is not weak."

"Really?" said Draco. "If he's not hiding, and he's not fighting Voldemort, then where is he?"

Hermione was silent. What were all these questions leading up to? She looked at Malfoy, beginning to size him up...

Draco realized that he had pressed too far too early. He changed tactics, hoping to distract her. "I'm starting to think you're in love with him, Granger."

"What? I'm not!" she exclaimed, completely caught off guard. "We're friends." She frowned at Malfoy. "Not that it's any of your concern."

"And Weasley?" Draco asked, genuinely interested in her answer this time. "Is he a friend too, or something more?"

She turned bright red. "That's—that's none of your business. I'd like to go back now." She stood up and reached for her bag.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Sit down. I promise I won't ask you anymore questions about your love life."

She scowled at him.

"Honest," he said, holding his hands up as a sign of defeat.

She sat beside him. They finished their charts, and didn't speak again until it was time to go.

"Ready?" he asked, as they mounted the broom.

She nodded.

Hermione closed her eyes as he kicked off into the air. He didn't try to show off this time, flew smoothly, and minutes later they landed on the terrace of the Astronomy Tower.

It had been an interesting night, to say the least, Hermione thought. In all their years at Hogwarts, that was the longest conversation she'd ever had with Malfoy and it hadn't been entirely unpleasant. But how much of what he told her was the truth?

"Well good night," Hermione said. "I have to admit you're a slightly better Astronomy partner than Neville."

Draco laughed. "Only slightly?"

"Well," she conceded, "you managed to get the assignment done."

Hermione turned to go, but he took hold of her arm and swung her around to face him.

"What?" she asked startled, confused as to why he had suddenly seized her arm.

"Come now, Granger, that's not really what you came out here for."

She paled. Had she blown her cover somehow? Had he seen her follow Pansy? Did he know she was working for Dumbledore and the Order?

"And what did I come here for?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

He pulled her closer, so close that his face was only inches from her own.

They were very near the edge of the tower. Did he mean to throw her off?

"If you don't tell me what you want Malfoy, then I'm—"

"This," he said, and to her surprise he leaned forward, and pressed his lips to hers, wrapping his arms around her waist so that she couldn't get away.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Houses clash as word spreads of a new killing curse. Draco and Hermione question their feelings. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who reviewed the last chapter! I was hoping to post this yesterday but I recently adopted a puppy beagle and he's been keeping me very busy! Hope you all enjoy this new chapter :)

Draco realized he had wanted to kiss Hermione since the Yule Ball. He remembered that evening as though it were yesterday. All night he had watched her dance with Krum. He had admired the way her dress showed off her small waist… observed the way she tilted her head when she laughed. He longed to dance with her, to run his hands through the cascade of curls that fell around her shoulders. Seeing Krum so close to her made him feel ill, like he had been hit by a horrible curse that had rendered him speechless. And then without knowing what he was doing he had followed her out of the great hall, transfixed, determined to find a way to approach her…but it had all gone terribly wrong.  
  
And now she was in his arms. Draco buried his face into Hermione’s neck. She smelled of lavender and honey, he closed his eyes and let the wonderful scents wash over him. A small part of him was triumphant when his father had told him about the mission. It would be a chance to get close to Granger, even if it meant she would only hate him in the end...  
  
Draco pulled Hermione tighter against him. His hands worked their way into her hair, his lips traveled down her neck, then he lightly tugged at her blouse to kiss her shoulder.  
  
Hermione felt lightheaded. Of course she knew this might happen…getting involved was the quickest way to complete her mission.  
  
But she hadn’t expected Malfoy to make a move so soon. And it wasn’t so much the kiss that surprised her. It was the _way_ Malfoy held her…gentle and at the same time impatient, cautious but at the same time bold. He lifted her arms and wrapped them around his neck, then he carried her to the window seat behind them.  
  
Hermione tilted her head back to watch as he took her hand and kissed her wrist.  
  
In between kisses Draco stole glances at her, brushed his hand against the smooth skin of her cheek, and traced the outline of her lips.  
  
He was holding her as if she was something delicate, breakable. As if he wanted to keep her safe…savoring every second, knowing that she might soon come to her senses and curse him into oblivion.  
  
Draco’s lips found hers again and he kissed her more urgently.

Hermione closed her eyes. She had expected to feel nothing…to have the upper hand…to feel detached. Now she found she didn’t want to pull away. No one had ever kissed her like this before. Krum’s kisses had been clumsy and awkward, his caresses too rough and unskilled. But Malfoy knew exactly what he was doing, and she no longer trusted herself around him.  
  
“I think we should slow down,” she said finally.  
  
Draco pressed his forehead against hers. “If you say so,” he whispered.  
  
He released his hold on her and pulled away. Then, to her surprise, he laughed.  
  
“What’s so funny?” Hermione demanded.

  
“Nothing,” he said. “Just that I see why you want to take things slow.” He winked at her and placed his hand under her chin. “I can tell you’re relatively new at this sort of thing.”  
  
Hermione turned bright red and slapped his hand away. “Excuse me?”  
  
“I can tell Krum wasn’t a very thorough teacher. But don’t worry, I’ll better the instruction.”  
  
He leaned in to kiss her again, but she slapped him, hard.  
  
“WHAT THE BLOODY HELL WAS THAT FOR?!” he raged.  
  
“Krum was an excellent kisser! Much better than you!” she lied. “And don’t flatter yourself, I don’t need a teacher.”  
  
Draco’s eyes flashed with anger. She made for the door to the Astronomy classroom, then paused. “You’re not the first person to take me out flying, Malfoy. And after tonight it’s clear you bought your way onto the Slytherin team. Krum had real talent. I doubt you’ll play on any team after Hogwarts.”  
  
Draco’s face paled and before he could think of a response, she turned the handle to the Astronomy classroom and stormed off.  
  
 _How dare he?! The bastard! And to think she had actually enjoyed kissing him!_  
  
 _And that routine! How many other girls had he taken out flying?_ No doubt he thought she’d be easy to fool. _Wrong Malfoy! Wrong!_ She wouldn’t be swayed so quickly. He’d have to work much harder than that if he hoped to get anywhere near her again.

***

Hermione slept fitfully that night. She was soaring high above the countryside, in a land that seemed quite foreign. The sun was low in the sky casting a glow over golden hills and distant peaks and valleys. The air was warm and felt like a soft embrace.  
  
Perched upon a huge bedrock was a castle with slate roofs and blue-gray turrets that shone in the waning light. As she flew closer she saw that the front of the castle was shaped like the bow of a ship. It almost appeared as if the castle was sailing towards her, cutting through the forest below.  
  
She circled around, flying past several arched windows, and looked inside. The halls and rooms appeared empty, but candles flickered along the walls letting her know someone was there. She flew higher and landed on the terrace.  
  
She spotted a boy standing a few feet away.  
  
“Harry?” she whispered. At once, she recognized his untidy black hair and bright green eyes.  
  
He was standing by a large wishing well. He looked down into its depths. He seemed to be searching for something. Hermione called his name again, but he couldn’t hear her.  
  
After a few moments, he turned and opened a door behind him. Hermione followed him down a long spiral staircase that seemed to go on forever. They finally reached a large gallery, but it was dimly lit. She froze. She sensed something move in the darkness.  
  
“Harry?” she asked, grabbing his arm. “What’s that?”  
  
Suddenly, a tall figure emerged from the darkness, armed with a wand.   
  
“Who are you?” Hermione demanded. “What do you want?”  
  
Suddenly, a jet of light issued from the figure’s wand and Harry crumpled to the floor. He screamed, and his body twitched this way and that, his eyes rolled back in his head, and his screaming grew louder, so loud Hermione thought her ears would burst. Then, for a few moments he gasped for air, struggling to make any sound at all. Patches of light burned bright on Harry’s arm, and like a network of veins they traveled up to his neck then to his forehead. The lights blazed brilliantly then faded, and just when Harry caught his breath, they formed again, causing him terrible pain.  
  
She knew Harry was dying. It was a slow, painful death, unlike anything she’d ever seen before. She had no idea how to help him.  
  
Suddenly, the figure advanced on her and raised the wand once more.  
  
“Noooo!!!” she screamed.

***

  
Hermione opened her eyes and almost fell out of bed. She looked around her. There was no one in the girl’s dormitory…but somehow…the screaming hadn’t stopped. It took a moment before she got her bearings, then she reached for her sweater and pulled it over her head.  
  
She raced downstairs to the common room. Everyone was huddled around a copy of the Daily Prophet. The screams were coming from the picture on its front page.  
  
A crowd of muggles were running away from a large explosion in Central London. There was a woman lying on the ground screaming just as Harry had done in her dream. A Death Eater stood over her, his wand pointed directly at her chest.  
  
She spotted Ron standing at the back of the room. “What’s going on?” she asked.  
  
He looked pale, like he was going to be sick. “Voldemort’s invented a new killing curse.”  
  
“What?” Hermione gasped.  
  
“It’s not like Avada Kedavra. It kills you slowly. You feel like you’re burning alive and drowning at the same time…eventually the pain becomes so terrible you wish for death. They’re calling it Mors Multarum.”  
  
Hermione looked at him, shocked. Had she seen the future? Would Harry be met with this curse? She had to tell Dumbledore…  
  
Dumbledore! He had asked her to steal the note…the note she had failed to retrieve from Pansy the day before. She looked at the clock hanging on the opposite wall. She was running late.

***

Hermione rushed to her room to change, then left the Gryffindor common room, an uneasy feeling in her stomach. She tried to shake the image of Harry screaming from her head, and made herself focus on the task at hand.  
  
She waited outside of the Slytherin common room for an hour but Pansy didn’t emerge. She began to panic, searching for her in the Great Hall, in the corridors and even in the library (though to tell the truth she doubted Pansy had ever set foot there). Finally, she made her way to the Astronomy Tower. It was a few minutes before class, and the room was empty.  
  
Craving some fresh air Hermione opened the door that led to the terrace. It was ice cold outside, and the sky was grey and stormy. Her cloak flapped violently in the wind. She suspected it would rain any minute now.  
  
Hermione wrapped her arms tightly around herself, then made her way to the edge of the tower. She leaned against the railing, and despite her best efforts, she remembered Draco’s kiss from the night before.  
  
She put a hand to her lips. _Why couldn’t she just forget about it? Why did he have this effect on her?_  
  
Suddenly, she heard the sound of approaching footsteps and the rustling of a cloak.  
  
“Just the person I wanted to see,” said a shrill voice.  
  
Before Hermione could turn, someone hit her from behind, pitching her forward, until half her body was leaning over the railing.  
  
“Fancy finding _you_ here…all alone.”  
  
Hermione clung to the railing for support and looked over her shoulder.

It was Pansy.  
  
She seized Hermione by the front of her robes and shook her. “What were you doing with Draco last night?”  
  
Hermione screamed as Pansy pushed her backwards. Her heart caught in her chest when she looked at the ground below her.

She was hanging over the railing upside down now.

Her blood rushed to her head.  
  
“I saw you leaving the library together!” Pansy spat, digging her nails into Hermione’s arm. “What are you after?”  
  
The world seemed to spin. “Pull me back over!” Hermione yelled.  
  
The wind whipped Pansy’s jet-black hair into her face. Her eyes were narrow, snake-like, and she had a demented look about her that sent a chill through Hermione’s spine.  
  
She felt drops of water on her cheek. It was starting to rain. Pansy’s feet slid as she struggled to keep her footing.  
  
“Answer me, you stupid Mudblood!”  
  
“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Hermione shouted, anger finally overpowering her fear.  
  
“Don’t play coy with me, Granger!”  
  
A flash of lighting lit up the sky, and what had started as light rain soon became a torrential downpour.  
  
Hermione tried to pull herself up but Pansy pushed her down again. She screamed as she slid further back.  
  
“ARE YOU MAD?!” shouted a male voice.  
  
Hermione struggled to see. She twisted to her left and saw Draco running towards them.  
  
Pansy turned, distracted.  
  
In that moment, Hermione saw Pansy’s school bag swing forward and without a second thought she thrust her hand inside it. _This was her chance._  
  
Hermione was amazed that in the middle of this chaos and her possible death, she could still keep her thoughts on the mission.  
  
Quickly, she felt around for the note. Hopefully Draco would distract her for long enough…  
  
“Go away!” Pansy spat. “This is none of your business!”  
  
“LET HER GO! NOW!”  
  
Hermione took hold of the note and stuffed it into her robes.  
  
Pansy turned to Hermione. For a split second she thought the Slytherin would let her fall to her death, but instead she yanked her back over the railing.  
  
Draco rushed to her side. “Are you alright?”  
  
Hermione nodded.  
  
“I’ll take care of this,” he hissed, eyeing Pansy with extreme distaste.  
  
“I was only having some fun, ” said Pansy innocently, a large Cheshire cat smile on her face.  
  
“You’ve completely lost your mind!” screamed Draco. He seized her arm and began dragging her away. “What’s the matter with you, do you want Dumbledore and that Romena woman to lock you up in Azkaban?! You could have killed her! If I hadn’t been here…”

  
Hermione waited for their voices to trail away as they left the Astronomy tower.  
  
When the coast was clear she raced to Dumbledore’s office, the precious note finally hers.

***

Moments later she sat across from Dumbledore, soaked to the skin, her heart still pounding in her chest, watching as he poured over the note and its contents.  
  
“They are coordinates,” he said gravely. “The castle will be attacked in a few days' time. All the exits and entrances to Hogwarts are clearly marked here.”  
  
“What shall we do?” asked Hermione.  
  
“You will secretly return this note to Ms. Parkinson, and let her deliver it. Perform a memory charm if necessary.”  
  
Hermione’s mouth dropped open in shock. “You’re going to let it happen? You’re going to let Voldemort attack Hogwarts?”  
  
“Voldemort will attack sooner or later,” said Dumbledore calmly. “This note tells us exactly when and how. It is our best form of defense.”  
  
Hermione opened her mouth to argue but he cut her short.  
  
“Do you remember how the students from Durmstrang visited us, Ms. Granger?”  
  
“What?” she asked, completely flabbergasted.  
  
“Durmstrang?” he asked pleasantly.  
  
“By ship,” she said slowly. “They emerged out of the lake.”  
  
“Precisely,” said Dumbledore.  
  
“I’ve spoken with the new Headmaster there, Durmstrang will lend us their ship. And I’d like you, when the time comes, to lead the evacuation. All first and second years. You will leave the moment I send word.”  
  
“And the rest of the students?” asked Hermione.  
  
“The rest will remain here at Hogwarts.”  
  
A dawning sense of realization hit Hermione. “There isn’t enough room for everyone, is there?” she asked Dumbledore. “Isn’t there some way the rest can escape?”  
  
“They’re best chance is to remain here,” said Dumbledore softly. “The Order will do their best to defend them. And those who wish to join the fight will be permitted to do so.”  
  
She looked outside the window and observed the students walking through the school grounds. “They shouldn’t have come back to Hogwarts.”  
  
Dumbledore stood behind her and followed her gaze. “They have remained alive this long _because_ they returned to Hogwarts.”  
  
He motioned for Hermione to follow him.  
  
“The ship will dock on the coast of Étretat.”  
  
Hermione racked her brain. The French name sounded familiar, then she remembered it was a coastal town famous for its white cliffs, natural rock arches and dazzling water. The magical community there was known for its healing abilities.  
  
“The students will be granted asylum, and later reunited with their families when their safety can be assured. You will sail on to Spain to meet Harry. He needs your help.”  
  
“Harry?”  
  
“He’s waiting for you…in the Alcazar of Segovia.”  
  
Dumbledore held out a pensieve to her. “If you please, Ms. Granger.”  
  
Hermione leaned forward, and her blood chilled as she saw the image reflected in the pensieve. It was a castle with high turrets and spires, and an exterior that looked like the bow of a ship…the castle she saw in her dreams.  
  
“You will receive further instructions at a later time.”  
  
Hermione nodded absently.  
  
“Is there anything you’d like to tell me?” Dumbledore asked, observing her closely.  
  
She looked into his clear blue eyes and expectant face. She didn’t want Dumbledore to think she was weak.  
  
“No, nothing.”  
  
“Very well then, Ms. Granger. You may go.”  
  
She nodded and hurried out of Dumbledore’s office.

***

“It's going to happen soon,” said Nott.

  
“What is?” asked Malfoy. They had finished with Potions and were making their way to the Great Hall.  
  
“The attack on the castle. My father doesn’t want me to stay. I’m leaving tonight. We made a deal with one of the guards…the one that’s working for our side.”  
  
Draco wasn’t surprised. Nott hated getting his hands dirty. It was only a matter of time until he made his escape. “Where will you go?” Draco asked.  
  
“Salem,” said Nott. “I’m finishing the year abroad. You should come too if you know what’s good for you.”  
  
“I can’t,” said Draco. “I’ve been initiated, it’s too late for me. You know that.”   
  
Nott and Malfoy turned the corner. They came upon a long hallway filled with suits of armor. At the end of the corridor they saw a group of Ravenclaw boys. They were all huddled around a copy of the Daily Prophet, discussing the new killing curse.  
  
Malfoy recognized Roman Everley, head of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team.  
  
The boy looked up and spotted the Slytherins walking down the corridor.  
  
“Well look who it is,” Roman shouted across the hall, pointing at the Daily Prophet. “Proud of yourselves, are you?”  
  
Nott and Malfoy stopped in their tracks. Roman marched up to them, “On your way to celebrate your victory?”  
  
“Get lost,” said Malfoy, but Roman didn’t move.  
  
Moments later the other Ravenclaws surrounded them too. They were outnumbered.  
  
“You’re a pretender Malfoy, just like your father,” Roman spat. “You’re playing both sides…but it’s only a matter of time until you’re found out.”  
  
“Bit paranoid today, are we?” Malfoy retorted.  
  
Roman’s face screwed up in anger. “Come off it, your whole family’s out there supporting You-Know-Who. They’re—”  
  
“Get out of our way, or you’ll be sorry,” said Nott, raising his wand and taking aim.  
  
“Why should I?” Roman challenged.  
  
“Have it your way then.”  
  
Nott muttered an incantation. “Lumine Ignis!”  
  
Roman’s robes caught fire. The flames traveled from the hem of his cloak, all the way up to his sleeve. He screamed and his wand fell to the floor with a clatter. He flapped his arms helplessly, and his friends backed away, afraid they’d catch fire too.  
  
A smile crept onto Nott’s face, and the light from the flames shone in his eyes, giving him a diabolical appearance.  
  
“Aguamenti!” shouted Malfoy dousing Roman with a jet of cold water. “Hold still!”  
  
But Roman was twisting this way and that, desperate to get away from the flames.  
  
Amidst the chaos, a Ravenclaw boy stepped forward and grabbed a hold of Nott.  
  
Finally, Malfoy seized Roman’s cloak and tore it off, then stamped out the last of the fire.  
  
“YOU’RE MAD!” shouted Roman pointing at Nott, then at Malfoy, his voice trembling with rage. “ABSOLUTELY MAD!”  
  
The remaining boys closed in on Malfoy, but Roman held them back. “Don’t bother. I’ll finish him off.”  
  
Malfoy rolled his eyes. “There’s no need to play the hero—”  
  
Roman punched Malfoy in the face.  
  
He fell to the ground and blood spurted from his mouth. Roman bent over him, then dragged him up by his collar.  
  
“There’s no one here to help you, Malfoy. And you’ll be locked up in Azkaban soon enough—you and your snake of a father.”

He pulled his fist back to hit Draco again.  
  
“Leave him alone!” shouted a voice.  
  
Draco turned. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione racing towards them.  
  
Roman’s eyes narrowed. “Stay out of this, Gryffindor.”  
  
“I will not stay out of it,” said Hermione indignantly. “Release him this instant!”  
  
“You’re defending _him_?” asked Roman in disbelief. “After everything he’s done to _Potter_?”  
  
Hermione clenched her fists. “If you resort to violent means then you’re no better than the Death Eaters.”  
  
Roman released his hold on Draco and marched up to Hermione. He pointed a finger at her. “You’re lucky you’re a girl, because if you weren’t—”  
  
“Leave her alone!” Draco warned, getting to his feet.   
  
Malfoy moved towards him, and Roman pulled a spear from the suit of armor behind him.  
  
“Stand back!” he warned, using it as a weapon.  
  
Several things happened at once.  
  
Nott kicked the Ravenclaw holding him, and in his hurry to get away, crashed into Malfoy.  
  
Malfoy lost his footing and stumbled forwards.  
  
Without thinking Roman lunged, and Draco gave a horrible, ear-splitting cry that echoed through the corridor.  
  
The spear had gone through his side.  
  
Draco crashed to the floor. He clutched his side in agony, and when he moved his hand away, Hermione saw blood seep through his robes.  
  
Hermione looked at Roman, horrified.  
  
The boy shook his head. “I didn’t mean to, I—I thought he was going to attack me.”  
  
She rushed to Malfoy’s side and lifted his shirt to see the damage. The cut was very deep. Her hands were soon covered with blood. Draco was staring at her, his eyes wide with shock. “It’s going to be alright,” she whispered to him, trying to keep her voice from shaking.  
  
She looked at the Ravenclaws standing around her. “Call Madame Pomfrey! Hurry! He’s losing too much blood!!”  
  
Before any of them could answer, the windows above them shattered. Glass went flying everywhere. Hermione covered her head with her hands. She could hear everyone stumble backwards. When the debris cleared, she looked up. A man on a winged horse had blasted through the window.  
  
“Urgent message for Dumbledore,” said the man.  
  
Hermione felt a rush of wind hit her face as the horse flapped its enormous wings.  
  
“The Ministry has fallen. Voldemort has taken complete control. Hogwarts is our last hope.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco is rushed to the Hosptial Wing, Hermione learns of the Magical Alliance, and Ron makes a difficult choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! Your comments inspire me so much!

Draco's vision blurred. There was a rush of color and sound, and he thought he saw the outline of a man on a winged horse. The man looked down at him briefly, then kicked the horse's side, and galloped down the corridor.

Draco felt himself moving, and realized someone had levitated him. There were screams, as students caught sight of him drifting down the halls, drops of blood trickling down to the floor after him. It seemed as though they were going in the direction of the hospital wing.

Soon, the sounds of hundreds of footsteps could be heard, as students rushed out of their dormitories and classrooms—news of Voldemort's attack spreading fast.

"Minister of Magic dead!" Peeves cackled, spinning into a fiendish loop above the hordes of students coming down the grand staircase, many of them already in their night clothes.

"Go to bed!" Filch shouted. He grabbed a broom from the cupboard behind him, and tried to swat a 3rd year with it. "It'll be detention in the dungeons for the lot of you, you filthy brats!"

Draco suddenly became aware of Granger by his side, yelling at students to move out of the way as she and the Ravenclaws tried to get him to the hospital wing. It was then that he noticed how terribly cold he was, a bone chilling cold that contrasted with the warm, sticky liquid running down his stomach.

It was blood, he realized…

Minutes later, someone blasted a set of doors open, and he was thrust through them.

"My god," Madame Pomfrey breathed as she caught sight of him. "What's happened?"

He was aware of being laid down on a bed, potions whizzed into the air, then Pomfrey's face loomed before his. She had a pair of scissors in her hands…she was going to cut his robes open.

 _No_ , he thought vaguely. He couldn't let her. _Then they would all see…how would he explain?_

He fought against her, and thinking he was mad with delirium, she stuffed a potion down his throat to make him lay still.

"You should all wait outside," Hermione said, turning to the Ravenclaws standing beside her.

Roman Everley was white as a sheet. He looked like he was going to be sick at the sight of so much blood.

"Come on mate," said his friend, putting a hand on his shoulder. "There's nothing we can do."

Hermione watched the Ravenclaws leave, then turned her attention to Madame Pomfrey.

She began to cut Malfoy's robes open, then she struggled with his shirt. Hermione twisted her hands nervously as she watched.

Suddenly, Madame Pomfrey looked up at her, incredulous.

"Get Dumbledore."

"What's wrong?"

"I need the Headmaster here at once," she insisted, a sudden edge in her voice.

Hermione nodded and rushed out of the infirmary.

She tore down the passages, crashing into students, a knot rising in her throat. Draco's injuries were severe, and she knew the more blood he lost, the harder it would be to heal him by magic.

"WHAT'S THAT OUTSIDE?!" a student screamed, as she reached the entrance hall. It was Lavender Brown. Everyone turned to face the windows.

A member of the Guard pushed open the doors that led to the school grounds. A handful of students ventured outside, Hermione among them. A dark cloud had formed, and it was slowly obscuring the night sky. In a matter of moments, the stars were no longer visible. Hermione's breath caught, and everyone next to her stood frozen, unsure of what was happening. The dark mass rolled out like a fog, expanding as far as the eye could see.

 _It was some kind of dark magic_ , Hermione thought to herself. An enchantment of sorts…

For a few seconds she stared up at the sky, entranced like everyone else, then snapped out of her reverie as a member of the Guard shouted at everyone to get back inside. They bolted the doors to the castle.

There was no time to waste…she had to get to Dumbledore.

Hermione was out of breath by the time she reached the third floor, and skidded to a halt in front of the gargoyle that concealed Dumbledore's office. "Fanged Frisbee," she panted.

The gargoyle sprang to life and moved aside. Hermione sprinted up the circular stone staircase, her heart hammering violently in her chest.

The door to Dumbledore's office was slightly ajar. She peeked through it.

She heard the voice of a man she didn't recognize. She turned to her left and saw that it belonged to the wizard that had flown in on the winged horse. He had a shock of red hair, a large mustache and a white suit with pale blue trim. On his chest was a badge that said: Magical Alliance, with three wands intertwined. On his left stood Romena Wright and further down, Professors McGonagall and Snape.

"Voldemort has cast an obscurement charm of a magnitude we've never seen before," said the man in a heavy accent she couldn't quite place. "Britain is completely cut off from the outside world. Dementors are patrolling the skies, the floo network is shut down, muggle planes are grounded. No one can leave the country. The muggles think it's some kind of weather anomaly. And the allies…we don't know if they made it in time. The battalions from Norway and Finland set out last week, but we don't know if they reached the Scottish border."

"The enchantments we've placed around the castle won't hold for long," said Snape dryly, looking at Dumbledore.

The red-haired man spoke again. "I broke through the magical barrier because I had knowledge of the spells that were cast. It will take the Death Eaters much longer."

"If you'll excuse me, Aksel," said Dumbledore speaking suddenly. "It seems we have a visitor."

Without looking at where she was standing, Dumbledore gestured to the door, "Ms. Granger, join us if you please. This next part requires your attention."

Hermione slowly entered the room. "Ms. Granger, meet Aksel Agarby, head of the Magical Alliance."

"Magical Alliance?" she repeated, shaking the hand of the red-haired man. "But that hasn't been invoked since—"

"1761, quite right," interrupted McGonagall. "During the wizard vampire wars. A union between British, Finnish and Norwegian wizards."

"We've always regretted not coming to your aid in the last war," said Aksel, referring to Voldemort's first rise to power. "We couldn't refuse a second time. Not after—" He stopped mid-sentence, as if afraid to reveal something. But he quickly recovered himself. "Not after learning of the devastation that has ravaged the country. If it's not stopped, this madness will surely spread across the continent."

 _Is that where Harry had been?_ Hermione wondered. In Finland and Norway, convincing members of the alliance? Is that what Aksel didn't want to reveal? But that must have been months ago, because Dumbledore had told her he was in Spain now…

Hermione looked questioningly at the Headmaster, but he shook his head, now was not the time to discuss such matters.

"This is why the ship is the only way out, isn't it?" Hermione asked. "It's the only way to leave the country undetected. Voldemort can control the skies, muggle transport, the borders…but not the sea, and dementors have no way of surviving underwater."

"Precisely," said Dumbledore.

Snape rolled his eyes at her and muttered under his breath, "Insufferable know it all."

"When did you last hear from the allies?" asked Romena Wright, turning to Aksel. "If they fail to arrive, the Hogwarts Guard is more than prepared—"

'The allies gave us our word," answered McGonagall curtly. "They will arrive as scheduled."

"We can only hope," said Dumbledore softly. He turned to Hermione.

"It seems you have some news for us, Ms. Granger."

"Yes," said Hermione, ashamed that she had almost forgotten why she'd come in the first place. "Draco Malfoy is gravely injured. We must go to the hospital wing at once."

***

When they got to the infirmary, it was clear what had made Madame Pomfrey so nervous. Draco was lying unconscious on the hospital bed. His robes and shirt had been removed. And there, on his left forearm, was the dark mark: the image of a skull with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue.

"I thought you should know, Headmaster," said Madame Pomfrey breathlessly. "The boy may not survive the night."

Professor McGonagall covered her mouth with her hands at the sight of Malfoy's wound.

Although Draco was unconscious, his body began to shake violently. "He's going into shock," Madame Pomfrey exclaimed. "Minerva, help me!"

"Professor McGonagall took out her wand. Snape and Dumbledore did the same.

Pink, gold and blue lights emerged from their wands and formed arcs over the bed, as they performed healing spells. Draco looked ghostly white, like a marble effigy in a cathedral, lifeless and cold.

Snape and McGonagall were shouting instructions, jostling past her, but she stood frozen, the sounds in the hospital wing muted, the movements of the professors distant. Blood rushed in her ears. She felt betrayed by the boy that now lay helpless before her. But she couldn't contemplate the thought of his death. Malfoy had always been a part of her life at Hogwarts…even if he had made much of her time there unpleasant.

But these past few days had been different. Draco had pulled his mask away, if only for a second—and she had seen something real.

And when he kissed her, it had felt right…in some strange way.

But maybe he had only been pretending. Maybe that was his one true talent.

It felt like an eternity passed before Madame Pomfrey announced that they had done all they could do. Despite all the healing spells, Draco's color had not returned. And then there was nothing to do but wait. And they waited and waited. Not sure if he would live or die.

***

Hours later Hermione was shaken awake. Professor McGonagall motioned for her to approach the hospital bed. She turned quickly to the window. It was near dawn, but the sky was still dark…the obscurement charm remained. _For how many days would they be submerged in darkness?_ she wondered.

As Hermione got closer to the hospital bed, her heart leapt in her chest. Malfoy was moving. He seemed to be in between sleep and waking. His lips were parted…his brows knitted together. It had taken the combined effort of three teachers and the school nurse, but he had survived the night.

"We must question him," Romena whispered. "He may have inside information on the incoming attack."

"I don't advise it," said Madame Pomfrey. "He made it through the night, but he remains in delicate health."

"There are lives at stake! It must be done!" hissed Romena.

Pomfrey looked to Dumbledore for advice. He nodded at her.

She pulled a potion out of a cabinet and told them that it would make Malfoy lucid temporarily, but she warned that they must not exhaust him, or he would weaken again.

She tipped the vial forward, and a liquid gold potion dropped into his mouth.

Moments later Malfoy coughed violently. A few seconds passed before he was able to open his eyes. He looked at his surroundings wearily. There were a great number of people standing by his bed, and it took a few moments for his eyes to adjust.

Slowly he remembered the fight with Everley, his injury, and he looked at his left forearm. There it was—the dark mark—exposed—for all to see. He had to think fast, if he did as his father had instructed, maybe he could make it through this…they had prepared for every possibility…

"It seems we have a snake in our midst," said Romena Wright through gritted teeth.

"Romena," Madame Pomfrey warned. "The boy is in delicate condition. You mustn't upset him."

"Mustn't upset the little lying, traitorous sneak?" she asked incredulously. "Forgive me for making a Death Eater uncomfortable.

"I'm not a Death Eater," said Draco, his voice raspy. "And I know nothing of Voldemort's plans."

"We can see the mark clear as day!"

Draco's eyes fell on Hermione. "I was branded with the mark, but I'm not a Death Eater," he repeated, just as his father had instructed him to do.

"Explain yourself," Professor McGonagall demanded.

Speaking was costing him a great effort, his wound was still raw, and a burning pain was starting up his side.

"I ran away from home and returned to Hogwarts against my father's wishes. I chose not to serve Voldemort."

Romena flinched. "You say his name quite casually."

"He will not be punished for that," warned McGonagall.

Romena laughed. "A likely story. You will be locked away where I see fit. The Dark Lord has no doubt taken over Azkaban once more, but there are other places…"

Dumbledore had remained silent until now. "He will remain in the castle until he has recovered from his injuries."

"HE IS NOT TO BE TRUSTED!" spat Romena, mad with fury. "I am beginning to question your sense, Dumbledore. You have a long history of trusting the wrong people." She spun around to look at Snape.

He looked down his hooked nose at her and simply glowered.

"Severus has my complete confidence," Dumbledore told Romena. "And his loyalty will not be questioned, not while you remain at this school."

She turned to Malfoy once more. "You will give us the names of every last one of the Dark Lord's followers and their hideouts. Including your father's."

Malfoy was silent for several seconds. Then he lifted his face to Romena's. "No," he said simply. "I'll give you whoever you want, but not my father."

Her eyes bulged in their sockets. "How dare you!" she hissed.

Under the covers, Draco jabbed at his side, upsetting the wound and prompting tears to form in his eyes.

"Lock me away if you want!" he shouted, letting his voice break. He felt the tears spill down his face…the pain was unbearable, but he needed to show a display of emotion if he wanted to appear convincing. He wedged his fist further into his side. "But if the Death Eaters find me, they'll kill me as soon as they storm the castle. That's the price of betrayal. And you won't have gained anything." He gave a sharp rasping breath and threw his head back onto the pillow.

"We must let him rest!" insisted Madame Pomfrey. "Our work will come undone. You may question him again once he has recovered more fully."

"He doesn't deserve rest!" Romena began.

"Enough," interrupted Dumbledore.

She turned on him. "I was appointed by the Minister of Magic—"

"The Minister of Magic is dead," said Dumbledore severely. "And his successor is in hiding. I am still headmaster of this school. It is my wish that you remain along with the Guard to perform the service that you were entrusted to do, and protect the castle. The allies may or may not come," he said gesturing to the window, and they all looked at the pitch-black sky.

Romena glared at Dumbledore, then stormed out of the hospital wing.

"It is time for Mr. Malfoy to get some rest," said Dumbledore. He turned to McGonagall, "We still have much to discuss with Mr. Agarby."

He paused, sensing another presence. "Ms. Granger, it seems someone is waiting for you."

Hermione turned and saw Ron standing by the entrance to the Hospital Wing. Dumbledore nodded at her and left with McGonagall. As she walked towards Ron, she snuck a glance back at Malfoy, his face was screwed up in pain from his injury. She'd have to speak to him later….

Snape, however, lingered by Draco's bedside.

"You lie almost as well as your father," he said.

Draco looked at him wearily, his head was beginning to spin. The effort it had taken to argue was taking its toll.

"Although, you shouldn't have upset your wound," said Snape pointing at his covers. A spot of blood was blossoming on the bed sheet, spreading like spilled ink. "You are of no use to the Dark Lord dead."

He raised his wand, "Scorgio."

The blood was wiped clean. Next, he pointed the wand to Draco's side, where his bandages had come undone.

"Reparo."

Draco gasped in pain, as the bandages pressed back into him.

He clutched his side. "I do what I must to survive, Professor. Same as you. You know well, where my loyalties lie." He looked at his Dark Mark.

"And your mission?" asked Snape, his black eyes glittering. They both turned to look at Granger. She was speaking in hushed tones with Weasley. "I presume you are close to discovering Potter's whereabouts."

Malfoy kept his face blank, and he could almost hear his father's voice in his ear. _Snape is not to be trusted. We cannot be sure of his loyalty to the Dark Lord._

"Very close," Malfoy lied.

Snape nodded.

 _And you professor?_ Malfoy thought to himself. _Has Dumbledore not relayed Potter's hideout to you? Dumbledore trusted Snape with everything, how could he not know that one vital piece of information?_

Snape leaned in close and whispered into his ear. "I have been tasked with telling you some unfortunate news. The Dark Lord has taken your mother prisoner to ensure that you complete your mission. If you fail, he will kill her."

Malfoy looked at him in horror. He felt what little blood he had left, drain from his face.

"Your time is running out. The Dark Lord needs to expedite his plans—for reasons I cannot discuss here."

Snape made to leave, but Draco grabbed a fistful of his robes. "Why not just take Granger prisoner during the attack? It would be the easiest way."

He felt guilty as soon as he said the words, but he thought of his mother locked away in some abhorrent cell, Merlin knew where. Maybe if Granger gave Voldemort what he wanted, he could help her get away unscathed—not likely, of course, but he would cling to the possibility.

Snape's lip curled. "We will torture the girl of course, if you are unable to complete your mission. But you and I both know that would prove… _disappointing_. She would sooner choose death than betray her _precious_ friend, Potter."

Snape looked down at Draco's hands. "I hope for your sake…you do _not_ fail." He snatched his robes away from Draco's grasp and walked away.

Draco watched him leave, panic starting to consume him…then his eyes fell to Weasley and Granger.

Hermione had taken no notice of the exchange between Snape and Malfoy. She was too busy trying to ascertain what on earth had happened to Ron.

He looked like he had been to hell and back. His eyes were bloodshot, and his hair was unkempt.

"Ron? For the last time, what's wrong?"

He glanced in confusion at Malfoy's direction, but was too distraught to ask her what was going on.

"Ron, what is it?"

"It's my mum…she's gone missing."

"W-what?"

"I got a final owl, before the enchantment was cast. She was reported missing two days ago."

"Oh Ron," Hermione whispered. "I'm so sorry."

She wrapped her arms around him, and he dropped his head on her shoulder.

From afar, Malfoy watched their every movement. It seemed the Weasel was devastated by some piece of news he had received. Malfoy's stomach clenched, as he saw Ron pull Hermione into a tighter embrace. The simple act infuriated him. But then Hermione caught his eye, and he looked away.

"Dad's completely devastated. Bill & Charlie are out looking for her. I need to find a way to leave the castle."

Hermione shook her head at him, and kept her voice low, aware that Malfoy was staring at them. "You can't leave. And you can't go back to the Burrow. You're one of Harry's best friends. You'll be tortured or killed."

"That's why I need your help," he said, taking her hands in his. "I need a few vials of the Polyjuice Potion you brewed over the summer."

Hermione thought back to the laborious month she had spent preparing the potion…she knew the time would come for them to use it, but Ron's plan sounded flawed, too many things could go wrong…

"No," she said firmly. She lowered her voice, and stepped closer to him so that no one else would listen.

Draco strained to hear, but Hermione's voice was barely above a whisper when she answered him.

"Dumbledore found a way to get the younger students out of the school, and he wants me to lead the evacuation. You can leave with me."

Ron frowned at her. "I won't run away like a coward. My _mum_ is missing Hermione." He dropped her hands. "I'm leaving with Fred and George as soon as we find a way to get out of the castle."

"You can't," she replied. "What about Ginny?"

 _What about me?_ she thought. But she didn't have the courage to say the words.

Ron seemed to know what she was thinking. "Dumbledore will make sure you're safe, and I know you'll look after Ginny. Now are you going to help me or not?" 

Hermione was silent for a long moment, then she crossed her arms over her chest. "No," she said furiously. "I won't help you get yourself killed."

His face blanched, and for a few seconds he could do nothing but gape at her, but his shock soon turned to a passionate rage. "Fine, then I'll do it myself," he snapped. He turned on his heel and made for the door.

"Ron!" she shouted, chasing after him. "This isn't what your mum would want! You can't risk your life!"

"DON'T TELL ME WHAT MY MUM WOULD WANT!" he screamed, spinning around to face her. DON'T TALK ABOUT HER LIKE SHE'S ALREADY DEAD!"

His face was livid, and his hands were shaking.

Hermione gasped, completely taken aback.

Ron marched up to her, and when he spoke again his voice was low, seething, "I'm _sick_ and _tired_ of you always telling me what to do.

I'm leaving tonight and don't you _dare_ try to stop me."

He stormed away. Hermione watched him leave, incredulous, her feet rooted to the ground.

Things were spinning out of control, much faster than any of them could have imagined…

***

A day passed before Draco saw Hermione again. At least he thought so. It was hard to tell how much time had passed, when the sky was submerged in total darkness. Madame Pomfrey had him sit up, and was about to replace his bandages when Granger walked in.

Hermione noticed how starkly the dark mark stood out against Malfoy's alabaster skin. It made her sick.

"Ms. Granger," said Madame Pomfrey brightly. "It's a good thing you're here. I must speak with Dumbledore urgently, we need more supplies. Will you tend to Mr. Malfoy here?"

"Of course," Hermione answered. She waited for the school nurse to leave before addressing Draco.

"You lied to me," she said, careful not to let her voice betray any emotion. "When you said you weren't like your father…"

"I'm not," Draco started. He paused for a long moment before he spoke again. "I hate what he's done to my family—"

"But you protect him!"

"He's my father. Would you turn yours in so easily?"

"My father would never do what yours has done."

"You've lived a sheltered life, Granger. You've never had to decide between two horrors…you see only right or wrong. The world doesn't work that way."

"You have to turn him in," Hermione pressed. "You can't let him get away with what he's done, even if he is your father."

Her stubbornness pushed him over the edge. "I heard you refuse Weasley, when he asked you for help the other day. If that's how you treat your friends, I'd hate to think how you treat your enemies. You're cold and unfeeling, and that's why Weasley will never touch you."

Hermione's mouth dropped open in shock. She swung her arm back to hit him, but he caught her wrist firmly in his grasp.

"You will not raise your hand to me again, Granger, do you hear me?"

Hermione was shaking with pent up rage. She wanted to curse Malfoy into a million pieces, to be done with this game.

"I see that you're much better now," she said, looking at the hold he had on her arm. "I shouldn't have come."

She wrenched her arm away and turned to leave.

"Madame Pomfrey won't be back anytime soon," he shouted. "Will you let me bleed to death?"

She froze in her tracks and spun around to face him. She looked like she had every intention of leaving him to his fate.

Hermione marched up to Draco. She knew she had two choices. Go up to her room and cry, or beat the idiot at his own game.

Draco watched her closely. He winced as she yanked his shirt off and reached for the bandages.

She healed him, and pressed the new bandage to his side, then let her hand wander to the curve of his neck. His breathing became slow and he looked up at her, taken aback. She leaned in close, and brushed her soft lips against his.

He froze.

"But you don't mind that I'm cold and unfeeling, do you, Draco?" she whispered, reciting his words back to him. "The other night on the Astronomy tower, you didn't mind at all."

Hermione gazed at his mouth, inviting him to come in closer. He leaned towards her, hardly daring to believe she wanted him…but then she pulled away at the last second.

"This, whatever it was," she said, waving her hand dismissively in the air. "Is done. Dumbledore will decide what's to be done with you."

He tugged at her arm, and pulled her down roughly, until she was forced to sit next to him on the hospital bed. He laced his fingers into her hair and put his lips to her ear.

"You don't get to decide how this ends," he hissed.

He fixed his grey eyes on her intently, challenging her to reply.

Hermione placed her hand on his bare chest, intent on pushing him away, but Draco only smirked at her.

"Feeling me up, Granger?"

Her face heated. She tried to move her hand away, but Draco held it fast.

"You want this, just as much as I do—even if you hate yourself for it." 

Hermione swallowed."You're wrong," she said, but not as strongly as before.

"Kiss me," Draco demanded. "If you feel nothing for me, then prove it. Kiss me, and show me you feel nothing."

He didn't wait for her to reply.

He grabbed her collar and pulled her to him. Their lips met, and Hermione gripped at his arm. He kissed her roughly before she could argue.

Their emotions were completely unrestrained. This kiss was nothing like their first. It was a savage, bruising kiss. Hermione bit his lower lip, hard. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and tugged on it. Their tongues were at war with each other, each trying to subdue the other.

Hermione dug her nails into his arm, where the dark mark was, and he abruptly released his hold on her. He knew she was only kissing him out of anger, out of rage. He had hoped she had been worried for him, fearful of his death even, but the look in her eyes said otherwise. There was none of the concern there she had shown for Weasley.

"Send for Pansy," he breathed. "She'll see to me. I won't be tended to by someone that thinks I'm a Death Eater."

Hermione's face darkened. "Malfoy—"

"GET OUT!"

Hermione stood up, and took two steps backwards, shocked at his sudden outburst. She looked at him like he was mad, not understanding his spiraling anger. She bit her trembling lip and stormed off, shouting at a first year out in the hall to send for Pansy Parkinson.

His father was right. Learn your enemies' secret desires, their fears and weaknesses. Granger had come undone, exactly as he said she would. But then again so had he. Because it meant that she still loved Weasley, and that, was what he couldn't stand. The extent of her loyalty to him, he hadn't known until now. She loved Weasley. And she most certainly did not love Draco.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All chaos breaks loose at Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! Hope you're having a lovely weekend!

A terrible scream rent the air, deep within Hogwarts castle.

"Had enough, Mr. Malfoy?"

His wrists were tied together, and his legs felt like lead.

"I've told you everything I know."

"Then brace yourself," Romena warned, a malicious smile on her face.

Draco shut his eyes.

She raised her wand and there was a loud CRACK as an invisible whip struck him for the third time.

He doubled over in pain.

 _He would make her pay for this_ he thought savagely, as blood streamed copiously down his back.

He had woken up in an unfamiliar part of the castle, in a large cavernous room that looked much like a dungeon, but he knew they weren't on the lower level. He knew all the dungeons near the Slytherin common room, and this one…this one simply did not exist.

How long until someone noticed he was missing? Or worse, what if they assumed he had escaped, and left the castle?

He suspected Romena had cast a powerful deception charm. For all he knew they were in an empty classroom, on one of the upper floors.

"Dumbledore won't stand for this," he hissed.

"Dumbledore doesn't know that you are here," Romena answered. I've made sure of it." She grinned madly, turning to the guard standing behind her.

He nodded in agreement.

Malfoy subconsciously reached for his wand then remembered it was gone, most likely stolen when he'd been lying unconscious in the hospital wing.

Romena moved towards Draco, muttering an incantation.

He braced himself again…his whole body tensing…

There was an explosion.

A large reptile-like creature erupted from her wand and flew through the air…

"Nooooooo!" Malfoy screamed, as it landed on his neck.

The reptile's fangs pierced his skin, tearing at his flesh. He reached for the animal, trying to yank it off, but its grip was too strong.

In a matter of moments his face started to swell…his breathing slowed…his heartbeats grew more and more magnified…

He sank to the floor…and then…

Nothing.

All the pain was gone. He looked around, searching for the fanged beast, but there was nothing there…all he felt was a rush of wind.

Draco dropped his hands, trembling…it had been a false spell.

Romena laughed.

She had planted all sorts of horrors and hallucinations into his mind for the past hour. Advanced confundus charms were her specialty, and she took great delight in their creation.

Draco clutched his head. He was disoriented, and it was becoming harder to distinguish what was real.

"Had enough, Mr. Malfoy?"

"I've told you everything I know."

It was partly true. He had given her the names and hideouts of numerous Death Eaters…useless information as they constantly changed locations, but still information nonetheless.

"You've left out the most important detail," she said, her voice pouring over him like acid.

He swallowed, thinking she meant to ask about his family. He was a skilled Occlumens, and so far he had been successful in shielding his mind from her…

Without warning, she flicked her wand, levitating him high into the air.

Invisible ropes tightened around his neck, choking him.

She made another movement with her wand, and he rose higher still…kicking his legs in protest along the way.

"Surely you must know of Voldemort's plans?" she asked, her voice light and airy.

The ropes closed tighter and tighter around his neck, strangling him…his eyes rolled back into his head, and just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore…

"Relashio," Romena said lazily.

He fell ten feet, landing on the cold, stone floor with a thunderous crash.

"Still don't remember?" she asked, stepping closer to him.

He looked down and saw that his leg was bent at an awkward angle, most likely broken.

"Surely, you must know more…"

He crawled away from her…gasping for air…his vision blurring…

"Come now," said Romena, grabbing a fistful of his hair and dragging him backwards.

Her patience was wearing thin. Her attempts at legilimency had failed, but she knew his resolve was weakening.

"Our friend needs encouragement," she said silkily, throwing Malfoy at the guard's feet.

The guard nodded. He raised his foot and let it fall onto Draco's broken leg.

"AAAAAAHHHHHH!"

"YOU CAN MAKE IT STOP!" Romena shouted wildly. "YOU CAN END THIS!"

The pain was unbearable…Draco was certain his leg would be damaged beyond repair…

Romena kneeled in front of him.

"Vodemort has discovered a new form of dark magic, has he not?" she asked sharply.

Malfoy could barely lift his head to look at her.

"Siccare novit potestatem," she whispered into his ear.

Draco felt his stomach dissolve as he recognized the words.

Romena looked at him intently. " _How_ has he done it?"

Draco shook his head. "That's all rumor—"

"SILENCE!"

Romena kicked him in the stomach.

He felt her invade his mind. His attempts against her were feeble, having been tortured for hours. She easily navigated through the inner layers of his mind, bringing his deepest thoughts to the surface.

Suddenly, the dungeon became blurry….it was fading away…he was falling back…far back into a memory…

Draco was at Malfoy Manor.

He was hidden behind a large pillar, spying on Helen and Mason Mackay.

Draco suspected the Death Eater couple had only returned to Voldemort's side for personal gain.

They were highly intelligent and knew how to play their cards well.

"Come now Helen, we both know the Dark Lord's return is only the beginning. His plot to kill Dumbledore and Potter…a mere first step towards his grander plans."

"What do you mean?" asked his wife. "What could possibly be grander than his plan for immortality?"

Mason looked over his shoulder and took his wife by the arm.

"He has found a way to control and manipulate the magic of others."

"By means of the imperious curse?"

"No…much worse. He can take away a wizard's magic all together."

Helen looked at him darkly. "What do you _mean_ , take it away?

"Drain you of magic until you're of no greater use than a squib."

Helen clapped a hand to her mouth. Mason pulled her forward, and they continued pacing around the garden.

"He has found a way to upset the connection of wizard and wand…wand and core, he replaces himself as the core, and the wand's loyalty is to him. It does your bidding only as long as you are true to him. It's the only way for the Dark Lord to know his real followers. Muggleborn wizards and blood traitors will be stripped of all magic."

Helen raised an eyebrow. "But magic can be done without a wand. And so many are against him."

Mason laughed. "A wizard's magic is not nearly as powerful without a wand. The Dark Lord trusts no one…no one living at least. His sights are set on the future. He will control and temper magic, school and instruct future generations of wizards… until they believe as he does, act as he does, and there's no need for anyone to feign loyalty…"

"But h _ow_ has he done it?"

Mason looked around, sensing they were being watched.

"We can't talk now. Meet me in the—"

Draco felt the garden spin. It was the end of the memory. He shut his eyes, feeling the ground move beneath him.

"So the rumors are true," Romena said simply, as the dungeon came back into focus.

Draco looked at her resentfully. He doubted she'd let him go…even now that she'd stolen the memory she wanted. "You're clearly not working for Dumbledore or the Order," he spat. "And you're obviously not on the Dark Lord's side. What's your stake in all this?"

"I work only for myself, Mr. Malfoy. That's all you need know." Romena considered him for a moment.

"You remain of use to me," she stated matter-of-factly.

"You've seen inside my mind, that's all I know."

"When your father learns that his only son is at my mercy, he will do my bidding. I intend to learn more of Voldemort's plans. Although, it may be easier with you dead," she said, lifting his chin with her wand. "Your parents will believe you remain under my power, until I get what I need. There's no need to keep you alive, is there?"

Draco sneered at her. "It won't make a difference to my father if you kill me. I betrayed him…I ran away hoping for Dumbledore's protection…he already considers me dead—"

"I don't need to invade your mind again…to know that you are lying," she said, her voice cold, emotionless. "I am no fool, and you are no great wizard. How old are you? Fifteen? Sixteen?" She laughed. "You've been a pawn in your father's schemes, and now you will be a pawn in mine."

The guard opened the door, and Draco caught a glimpse of two others standing outside, and a corridor beyond. Romena swept past him into the hall, passing a large painting of a golden unicorn.

As soon as the door closed behind her, the room started to shrink.

Panic rose in Draco's chest.

The room grew smaller and smaller until he thought it would suffocate him.

He shut his eyes. Even when Romena was gone, she continued to toy with him, he thought grimly.

He stretched his arms out, hoping to stop the walls from caving in. And just when he thought they would swallow him whole, they shuddered to a halt.

A few moments passed before he opened his eyes. His suspicions were correct, he was not in a dungeon but in a hidden chamber on the seventh floor. He recognized the painting in the corridor of the golden unicorn. He had explored this part of the castle once before, in his second year, when he had been trying to find the Heir of Slytherin.

He had been beside himself with excitement, thinking he had found the Chamber of Secrets. Instead, he had stumbled upon a wall, a wall that hid various corridors and chambers.

It appeared that this part of the castle had been sealed off long ago. There was dust and cobwebs everywhere he looked. He had discovered four rooms, and soon realized they were the living quarters of the Four Founders.

They had been stripped bare of furniture centuries ago, and only the crests above each chamber told him who they had belonged to. He had spent countless hours in Salazar's room, searching it tirelessly, convinced it was the Chamber of Secrets or that it led to a secret tunnel.

But then he'd heard rumors that Potter had found the real chamber, far beneath the lake. His disappointment had been tantamount and he had exploded in a fit of rage, much to Crabbe and Goyle's dismay.

The memory of this place had haunted him for years. Why would someone seal the Founder's Chambers if there was nothing to hide? And how had Romena discovered them?

He doubted the Gray Lady had confided in her, as she had confided in him.

He had seen her pass through the same drab wall on the seventh floor every night. He'd followed her and heard her crying on the other side.

She always mumbled the same thing over and over, "Forgive me mother. Forgive my betrayal. I'm sorry I did not return in time to say goodbye."

She stayed hidden every night and emerged in the morning, looking solemn.

Draco had befriended the Grey Lady, learned that she was Ravenclaw's daughter, and eventually, after he gained her trust, she told him what was behind the wall. Her mother's old chambers….

And if Ravenclaw's chambers still stood… then so did Salazar's, he had thought excitedly.

The Grey Lady had shown him a trap door that led to a secret passage. He'd needed Pansy and Goyle's help to get inside, but they had never found anything of value, and when he had asked the Grey Lady why the rooms had been sealed off, she refused to speak to him again.

Draco looked around, his thoughts returning to the present...

Every part of his body ached. He looked down at his leg, hoping it wasn't actually broken…maybe it had only been a hallucination.

But a quick glance told him that he hadn't imagined it.

Draco rested his head against the wall and shut his eyes.

He had to find Potter. His family would be nothing more than Voldemort's lap dogs until then.

Over the summer he had seen things he could never unsee, things impossible to imagine even in his worst nightmares, and he knew the memories would haunt him long after the war was over.

And now Voldemort had taken his mother prisoner. Draco refused to let her die..he would not fail her…

 _Granger_ would lead him to Potter.

She would lead him to Potter even if it meant putting her in harm's way. He had to face the prospect of her meeting a worse fate than his own. He did not let himself mull it over, it would only set him back….but the memory of her lips on his, the smell of her skin, made his blood rush.

No...he couldn't let her cloud his thinking…

He had to convince Granger that he needed her, make her believe that she was his only hope…and for that he needed to set the stage.

He knew Hermione well enough to guess that she couldn't refuse anyone who asked for help.

He had to appear desperate, at his wit's end, a drowning man…

And she…his only lifeline.

Draco looked at the ring on his left hand, twisted it to the right three times and waited.

It sparkled and shimmered, until a flash of light erupted from its center. It illuminated the room, casting a harsh glow on Malfoy's face.

"Draco, is that you?"

Pansy's image was projected from the ring.

"Pansy," Draco whispered, his voice hoarse.

He crawled to the back of the chamber, so the guards wouldn't hear.

He smirked at her. The charm they had practiced had worked. Their house rings were now powerful tools of communication.

"What happened to you? Where are you? I asked for you in the hospital wing—"

"Romena took me prisoner, Dumbledore doesn't know where I am."

Pansy looked closer at him. "What can I do?"

"I'm on the seventh floor…in the Founders Chambers. You have to tell Granger that I'm here."

"But I can get you out. I remember the secret passage—"

" _No_ , it _has_ to be Granger. You know why. And you need three people to open the entrance, remember?"

Pansy bit down on her lip. "I don't like this Draco. I don't trust her, and neither should you."

"I don't have a choice."

It was a while before Pansy spoke again. "I have a message for you, from your father. It was delivered right before Voldemort's attack on the Ministry."

She held it up so that he could read it. He worked out the codes in his head, until he deciphered the secret message in the letter.

_What Snape told you is true. The Dark Lord has taken your mother prisoner. You must get to Potter. It is the only way. Your mother is in Edevane's keeping. You know what that means. Use any means necessary. The Granger girl knows more than she lets on. Whether Dumbledore lives or dies, she is the key. Do not leave the castle without her._

Draco shuddered. Edevane's unhealthy obsession with Narcissa Malfoy was well known to all of Voldemort's Death Eaters.

If his mother remained in Edevane's care, it would be a fate for her worse than death.

He looked at Pansy. "I'm going to need your help. We're running out of time."

***

Screams erupted in the great hall.

"Crucio!" yelled Blaise Zabini. The curse hit Cormac McLaggen in the chest. He fell backwards, upending plates and goblets on the Gryffindor table.

A bowl of grapes went flying into the air, smacking Neville Longbottom on the head.

Hermione backed away as McLaggen's legs flailed dangerously in her direction.

Blaise lunged at him, grabbing hold of his ankle.

"Mr. Zabini!" yelled Professor McGonagall rising from the head table.

Next to Zabini, stood his sister, Elaine, a fair-haired girl who was sobbing uncontrollably.

"She's lying to you!" McLaggen stammered.

"You'll answer for what you've done!" Blaise spat.

McLaggen was in excruciating pain, but he couldn't break free from the curse.

The Gryffindors tried to pull Zabini off, but their attempts were thwarted when several Slytherins rushed to his side.

It wasn't long before the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs joined the fight too.

Hagrid left the head table and marched towards the chaos, making the ground quake with every step.

Hermione ducked her head as a goblet went flying overhead.

"Get the headmaster, we're losing control!" McGonagall shouted to Flitwick, as one student forgot his wand altogether and started throwing punches.

"Zabini, release Mr. McLaggen at once!" she cried.

She rushed to the Gryffindor table, Professors Sprout and Snape at her heels.

A crowd had formed, and everyone was shoving each other.

Professor Sprout climbed to the top of the Hufflepuff table, shouting for order.

"You've all lost yer minds! Dumbledore would be o' shamed," Hagrid said gruffly, trying to restrain two sixth years from hitting each other.

Hermione glanced at Dumbledore's empty chair. She hadn't seen him all morning, only received a message from Fawkes detailing the plan for the evacuation.

She was distracted by a loud crash. In the commotion, Professor Sprout had toppled over and landed on the floor, taking a first year down with her.

Two of Romena's guards rushed forward, trying to break the students apart.

Snape approached, his black robes billowing behind him. "ZABINI!"

Hagrid was faster. He swooped down, and lifted both boys in one swift motion. He shook Zabini senseless until his wand fell out of his hand.

Professor McGonagall marched up to Snape. "You will control your house Severus!" she shouted, tightening her grip on her wand, as if she expected him to perform an unforgivable curse on her too.

Snape raised his wand high into the air.

There was a loud CRACK, like a gunshot, and everyone screamed.

"It's not me you want," Blaise spat, trying to squirm out of Hagrid's hold.

"We'll see what Dumbledore has ter say abou' that," Hagrid said gruffly.

Silence fell upon the Great Hall as everyone looked at Snape.

"Set them down," he commanded.

Hagrid let both boys fall to the floor.

"You have performed an unforgivable curse Zabini."

Blaise was so angry he was shaking. "What McLaggen did to my sister is far more unforgivable than any curse."

He pointed at him. "Tell them!"

Elaine's loud, racking sobs echoed in the Great Hall, her chest heaving with emotion.

"That Slytherin _slag_ is a liar," McLaggen said fiercely. "We never—we didn't— _It_ isn't mine!" he said quickly.

There were murmurs from the students as they whispered to each other.

" _What_ isn't yours?" McGonagall asked, suspecting she wouldn't like the answer.

Elaine wrapped her arms protectively around her middle.

Professor McGonagall moved closer to her. "Are you…"

She paused, looking extremely uncomfortable. She chose her next words carefully. "Are you expecting?" she asked gently.

Elaine nodded slowly, her cheeks wet with tears.

"And Mr. McLaggen is responsible?"

She nodded again.

"He told her to get rid of it," said Blaise. "And when she wouldn't listen to him, he gave her a potion that nearly killed her."

"I didn't know it would be that strong!" Cormac exclaimed. "I didn't mean to hurt her."

Everyone was silent, and only Elaine's shuddering sobs could be heard.

"You told her it was a potion to calm her nerves. You lied to her and nearly ended her life."

McLaggen looked down at the floor.

It was a while before Snape spoke again.

"While I understand your motivation Zabini, you have attacked a fellow student. You will both leave the castle."

Zabini's eyes widened. "But professor—I—I have nowhere to go."

"You should have come to me first," Snape said sharply. "Now there is nothing I can do for you. The guards will escort you outside."

Blaise stood rooted to the spot.

"NOW!" Snape shouted, making him jump. "You too McLaggen."

"But—" sputtered Cormac, he turned wildly to look at Professor McGonagall. "Professor—"

"What you have _done_ Mr. McLaggen, has deeply disgraced Gryffindor house. You will do as Professor Snape says."

"Attacks will not be tolerated," said Snape coldly. "Anyone who harms a fellow student will meet the same fate."

Everyone stood in shocked silence.

A member of the Hogwarts Guard stepped forward. He had scratches on his face from trying to wrestle a third year.

"From now on Slytherins will have separate mealtimes. Romena Wright's orders. And they will be moved to the fourth floor where she can keep close watch on them."

Hermione's pulse quickened. She knew the move had nothing to do with the fight. That was Dumbledore's doing. They needed the dungeons and the Slytherin dormitories clear for their plan to work.

There were murmurs of dissent from the Slytherins."But the rest of us haven't done anything!" said a 5th year.

"The rest of you will go up to your dormitories," said Professor McGonagall curtly. "Prefects, take your houses in an orderly fashion at once."

***

Hermione paced her room, hardly believing what McLaggen had done. She felt terrible for Blaise and Elaine, two people she never thought she'd feel sorry for.

It was impossible to choose sides in the middle of the chaos that surrounded them.

The Slytherins were just as shaken up as the Gryffindors. No one knew which way the war would turn. Tomorrow anyone could be the victor, and everyone looked at each other with suspicion.

Hermione's thoughts were interrupted by Crookshanks, who had streaked past her to climb up to the window. She patted his head absentmindedly.

Mass hysteria had gripped the castle, and poisoned what lingering peace they had left. The fight today had been the worst of many that had broken out throughout the week.

She bitterly conceded that she had learned nothing of Malfoy's family or his plans. She hadn't seen him since the day they had argued in the hospital wing. His words had stung her more than she liked to admit. He had a way of drawing her in and then throwing her off balance, just when she thought they were getting closer.

The attack on Hogwarts was imminent. The only useful thing she could do now was to listen to Dumbledore, and get the younger students out of the school.

She had never felt more alone…Ron was gone. Harry was gone.

It was like her first day at Hogwarts.

She shut her eyes. It seemed cruel that her time at the castle should end the same way it started.

She had caught Fred and George before they left, and given them half the polyjuice potion she'd brewed over the summer. Ron had gone ahead of them before she could say goodbye. A part of her was angry at him for it. Ginny had been furious too, and shut herself up in her room, refusing to speak to anyone for days.

The ship from Durmstrang had arrived last night, and was currently sitting at the bottom of the lake, waiting for Dumbledore's signal. If all went well, she and the students would leave the castle after midnight.

 _But what if Voldemort attacked before then?_ she wondered. The Order's intelligence suggested they still had time, but no one had heard from the allies. And there was something that made her uneasy. What would happen if the older students caught on to what she was doing? They wouldn't take well to being left behind. They could try to stop her, or take over the ship. Uncertainty and panic had already spread through the castle like a dangerous plague…

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.

It must be Ginny, she thought, reaching for the handle. _Maybe she was ready to talk…_

Pansy Parkinson pushed her way into the room before Hermione could protest.

"What are you—"

"Relax, Granger. I won't stay long."

Crookshanks jumped down from the window and hissed at her, but Pansy paid him no mind.

Hermione tightened her grip on her wand. "What do you want? Who let you in?"

"Longbottom," she said, smiling. "It didn't take much to coerce the password out of him. He's locked in a broom cupboard, but I'm sure he'll find his way out eventually."

Hermione glared at her.

Pansy spoke again. "Romena Wright is holding Draco prisoner, I thought you should know."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "That's not surprising, seeing as he's a Death Eater."

"She's torturing him, Granger. He's newly recovered from his injuries, and she's putting him through hell. You're going to go to Dumbledore, and you're going to make it stop."

Hermione kept her face blank. "I'm sure you're exaggerating. Dumbledore has more important things to worry about. I'm not going to—"

"She'll kill him, and Dumbledore is too distracted to notice. You're the only one who can make it stop. You have to help him. If she doesn't kill him, then _they_ will." She looked out the window, as if expecting Voldemort and his Death Eaters to materialize on the grounds at any moment.

She paused, weighing her next words. "You're his only chance."

Hermione folded her arms. "The last time I saw Malfoy, he made it clear he didn't want my help."

"Forget your stupid Gryffindor pride for one second, and listen to me—"

"Why not ask his friends to break him out?" interrupted Hermione.

"Nott left the castle, and Crab and Goyle aren't up to the task. Now with Blaise gone…that only leaves you."

"And what makes you think I want to help him?"

"You know the answer to that better than anyone," said Pansy bitterly. "I saw you on the Astronomy tower, the night that he kissed you."

Hermione's face flushed. "I—I—"

"I don't want an explanation," Pansy cut in. "I just need to know if you'll talk to Dumbledore."

Hermione shook her head. "No one has seen Dumbledore today, I'm not sure he can help—"

"Then we'll have to do it ourselves. He's in the Founders Chambers."

"The what?" asked Hermione dumbfounded. She didn't remember reading anything in Hogwarts A History about—

"They're hidden rooms," said Pansy, interrupting her thoughts. "They were sealed off after the last Founder died. There's a secret passage that leads to them, I can get us in, but we'll need at least one other person. The entrance—it takes three people to open it."

Hermione stared at her, at a loss for words.

"No one in Gryffindor will help," she said truthfully.

"No one in _Gryffindor,_ " Pansy reiterated.

Hermione frowned at her. What was she hinting at?

And that's when it hit her. There was one person who would help. She had seen the look of guilt on his face after Malfoy was taken to the hospital wing…

"I'll need to go to Ravenclaw Tower," Hermione said quickly. "I need to find Roman Everley."

The Ravenclaw Quidditch captain had almost killed Draco, and now he would help save him…she would make sure of it.

***

"Do you think she'll come?"

"She's soft-hearted Draco. Her conscious won't let her do otherwise. And she thinks of you differently…I could see it in her face."

Draco stared into his ring, Pansy was back in the Slytherin common room, pacing in front of the fireplace.

"You think differently of her too," she said resentfully.

"I don't."

"I've seen the way you look at her, just don't get yourself killed—promise me, you won't risk your life for hers—"

She stopped suddenly, alarmed. "Do you hear that?"

Draco frowned. "Hear what?"

There was a rumble and then—

BAM!

Draco fell forward. It felt like someone had hit the castle with a large battering ram.

The walls shook, and clouds of dust fell from the ceiling.

Draco looked down at his ring. Pansy had disappeared.

"Pansy—Pansy?!" he asked, hoping she could still hear him.

All the lights in the Slytherin Common room had gone out.

"I think it's him, Draco," said Pansy whispering in the darkness. "It's Voldemort, he's here."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Next chapter will be posted this Friday, and it's going to be a very long one ;)

"Run! Run!"

Hermione and Ginny raced out of the girl's dormitory, flying down the staircase that led to the Gryffindor common room, as a second blast hit the castle.

Ginny cried out in alarm, clutching Crookshanks to her chest, looking terrified.

Below them the Gryffindor common room shook with such force that bookcases tipped over and paintings crashed to the floor.

"I have to get you to the dungeons. You'll be safe there."

Ginny nodded.

Above them they heard shouting, students were calling to each other in panicked voices, some of them shaken awake by the blast.

"Come on!" Hermione urged.

They raced down the stairs to the common room, climbing over fallen desks and chairs, desperate to get to the other side of the room.

They heard a loud snapping sound behind them, and Hermione watched in horror as the last bookcase detached itself from the wall and tipped forward.

Hermione crouched down, pulling Ginny with her.

"Protego!" she shouted.

A sea of books rained down upon them, bouncing left and right as they hit the shielding charm.

"Come on! We have to keep moving!"

They climbed out of the portrait hole and raced down the corridor.

"We have to get to the main staircase," said Hermione.

Ginny struggled to keep up with her.

"What about Padma and Lavender? _"_ she asked. "Shouldn't we wait for them?"

"No," Hermione said briskly.

Minutes later they reached the landing of the seventh floor, and stopped, waiting for one of the moving staircases.

"We'll be alright," Hermione said reassuringly, as they jumped onto one, and started moving left.

"We just have to—"

A third blast hit the castle.

Hermione screamed. "Hold onto something!"

The staircase shook violently. Hermione and Ginny clutched the railing for support, fearful they'd be thrown off.

"Don't look down," Hermione warned as they swayed left and right.

Ginny shut her eyes, trying not to panic.

"The Order will arrive soon," Hermione said, trying to keep her voice steady. "They'll buy us some time, but we can't stay up here. It's not safe."

Ginny nodded, squeezing Crookshanks so tightly that he hissed at her.

They waited until the shaking stopped, then hurried down the staircase. They were about to catch the next one when they heard movement.

"What's happening?" someone behind them shouted.

Cho Chang skidded to a halt on the landing of the sixth floor, Michael Corner and Susan Bones at her heels.

"We're going to the Great Hall," Hermione lied. "The teachers will try to gather everyone there."

"Maybe we should go back to our common rooms," Cho said worriedly. "Wait for the prefects."

"Do as you like, but Voldemort's already broken through the barriers. The fighting will start soon."

Cho flinched at the mention of the name.

"My common room's all the way down by the kitchens," said Susan, eager to find her Hufflepuff friends. "I'm going with Hermione and Ginny."

She hurried to the staircase, and after a few moment's hesitation, Cho followed. Michael Corner stood rooted to the spot.

"I'm staying," he said simply. He turned on his heel and fled down the corridor.

"We have to move quickly," Hermione warned Cho and Susan.

She only had until midnight.

Then the ship from Durmstrang would sail off, and there would be no way to leave the country undetected.

The staircase moved again.

"GO! GO!"

They ran to the end of it, ready to catch the next one.

"Stay alert, and hold onto me," she told Ginny.

They both jumped onto the next set of stairs.

Susan followed, then Cho…but just as she landed there was another loud BANG.

They were all pitched forward, and Cho lost her footing.

Hermione turned in time to see her fly over the railing.

She lunged forward, trying to catch hold of Cho's robes. But she was too late.

She watched her fall several feet, hitting sets of stairs as she went, her hair flying up around her…plummeting with the speed of a bullet train….until she hit the ground with full force.

The students and teachers gathered below cried out in fright.

"CHO! CHO!" Susan screamed.

Her cries sounded distant, Hermione turned to her left and saw Ginny's widened eyes, and Crookshanks trying to squirm out of her hold. For several moments all Hermione could hear was her own heavy breathing.

She looked down at her hand. Her knuckles had turned white with how tightly she was gripping Ginny's shoulder.

And then someone turned the volume back up, and she could hear, clear as day, Susan's screams of anguish.

"CHO!"

"She's dead," Hermione said slowly, finding her voice. "We have to keep moving."

She pushed Susan forward, forcing her to go on, but Ginny wouldn't move.

"Ginny, come on."

She shook her head, clutching to the railing for dear life, completely petrified.

"We need to keep going, get up."

The adrenaline rushing through Hermione didn't allow her to stop. She half dragged, half carried Ginny to the landing on the fifth floor.

Susan backed away from them. "You two go on, I can't—"

Before Hermione could convince her otherwise she ran away from them.

Ginny was sitting on the floor, shaking. Hermione knelt down beside her.

"Ginny, look at me, we have to keep going. We _can't_ stay here. We'll be fine alright? Just stay close to me."

Tears leaked down Ginny's cheeks but she did as Hermione told her.

She forced herself to stand, her knees trembling.

Hermione grabbed her hand and they took the next set of stairs.

They dodged more falling paintings, candles, torches and uneven staircases. She knew it was only minutes, but it felt like an eternity passed before they made it all the way down to the entrance hall.

There was a crowd gathered around Cho's body.

Hermione pushed past students and teachers, trying to get to the front. Her breath caught in her throat when she finally made it there. Cho was lying in a pool of blood, her head split open, a look of shock permanently etched on her delicate face.

Hermione felt Ginny move behind her, but she held her back.

"Don't look," she snapped. "You don't need to see."

Hermione dragged her away from the crowd and steered her in the direction of the dungeons.

"Meet me in front of the Slytherin common room. Take Crookshanks with you. If I'm not back by midnight leave without me."

"What are you talking about?" Ginny asked bewildered. "Why do you want me to go down _there?_ "

"You have to trust me. You'll be safe in the dungeons, someone will explain if I'm not back in time."

Ginny panicked. "Don't leave me. Not you too!"

"Ginny I don't have time to argue. Promise me."

She looked at Hermione for a moment, trying to decipher the secret she was keeping. Her brothers had kept secrets from her all her life. They always told her she was too young to understand. She thought it would be different with Hermione, but apparently there were things she kept to herself too. She guessed it had something to do with Dumbledore, something he needed her to do.

"I promise," she said slowly.

Hermione nodded and rushed back to the main staircase.

"Where are you going?!" Professor Sprout cried, catching sight of her. She clutched her robes. "Are you mad?! It's not safe up there."

Hermione wrenched herself free from her hold, and looked up.

The maze of moving staircases made her head spin. Some had been blasted apart, others were splintered, and looked like they might collapse at any second. The image of Cho was still fresh in her mind, but she gathered the last of her resolve and moved forward.

She knew she was risking her life, but something compelled her to keep moving. She didn't want Malfoy to die simply because she hadn't _tried_. She would do her best to save him while Hogwarts maintained its defenses. If Voldemort or the Death Eaters managed to break into the castle, she would head straight to the dungeons. She was well aware that she only had until midnight.

 _It wouldn't be that difficult_ , she thought, trying to distract herself from the terror she felt as she jumped from staircase to staircase.

_She would get Everley, and they would meet Pansy. No doubt Malfoy's guards had abandoned their posts by now, realizing the castle was under attack…Surely they were of better use elsewhere._

There was a loud cracking sound, and the staircase swayed ominously, threatening to collapse.

She ran for it, seeing the ledge of the fifth floor landing.

It was now or never.

The staircase gave way just as she jumped. Her arms flailed wildly in the air…

S _he could not meet the same end as Cho…she had to make it…_

Her chest slammed hard into the ledge. Hermione cried out in pain, her hands slipping as she struggled to maintain her hold.

The staircase crumbled to pieces, and she heard shouts from below as people scrambled to get out of the way.

She yelled furiously, and used the last of her strength to push herself up. Her arms and legs trembled, and for a few seconds she lay face down on the floor, unable to move.

 _Keep going_ , she told herself.

She crawled away from the ledge, and bile rose in her throat. She clutched her stomach and retched, the shock of what happened to Cho finally hitting her.

The rolling wave of sickness coursed through her body over and over again, until there was nothing left for her to bring up, her stomach empty.

She wiped her mouth on her sleeve and looked up.

Students were screaming and running out of Ravenclaw tower.

She hurried towards them, trying to shake the dizziness that she felt.

"Have you seen Everley?" Hermione asked as she reached the crowd. "Roman Everley, has anyone seen him?!"

She pushed through the sea of students and rushed into the common room.

It was a wide, circular room with arched windows and a midnight blue carpet. The domed ceiling above them was covered with stars, and in the center of the room stood a large marble statue of Rowena Ravenclaw.

Bookcases had tipped over and books lay strewn all over the floor. Half open trunks lay abandoned. Two students were huddled in a corner, crying.

"Roman!" She shouted. "Roman Everley!"

"He's over there," said a girl, pointing behind Hermione.

She spotted him in a far corner of the room, talking to a male prefect.

"Where are the first and second years?" Everley demanded.

"McGonagall and Flitwick took them earlier. They—"

"I need to find my brother, surely you must know _something_."

The prefect bristled. "I—"

"I need to speak with you," Hermione interrupted, tapping Everley on the arm.

He turned, recognizing her voice.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

"I need your help."

"I can't help you Granger. We're being attacked in case you haven't noticed."

He rushed away from her.

"I know where he is—your brother."

Roman stopped dead.

He spun around to face her.

"Tell me then."

"I need your help with Malfoy first. Romena locked him away and I—"

Everley thrust his wand into her neck. "I will blast you to pieces!"

Hermione swallowed, about to form a reply when a student next to them cried out.

"GET OUT THE WAY!"

They heard a loud rushing sound, and turned to the windows. An orange-red glow was reflected on the glass.

A great ball of fire, as if shot from a cannon, was flying at alarming speed toward Ravenclaw tower. Hermione's heart froze. They were standing directly in its path.

"MOVE!" Roman yelled in her ear. "MOVE NOW!"

He dragged her out of the way just as the fireball crashed through the window and smashed into the center of the room. The blue and gold curtains around them caught fire, and in a matter of seconds the room was engulfed in flames.

The remaining students raced out of the common room as fast as their legs could carry them.

Hermione and Everley were about to follow, when Ravenclaw's marble statue tipped forward, and hit the floor with a terrible crash.

"We have to move it," said Roman, realizing the statue had blocked their only means of escape.

Hermione nodded.

"WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!" they shouted in unison.

The statue lifted an inch then fell again.

"No!" Roman cried in frustration."WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!" he shouted, but the statue wouldn't budge.

"It's too heavy!" said Hermione, panicking. The heat from the flames was pressing in on them, and smoke was filling the air.

"Wait here," said Roman.

He made for the stairs that led to the dormitories.

Hermione seized his arm. "Don't go back up there!"

He twisted free from her hold, and charged up the stairs two at a time.

She heard someone outside in the corridor, shouting. "Fire in Ravenclaw Tower! Get help!"

The flames hissed and shot sparks at her, forcing her further back into the room.

 _No one was going to arrive in time to save them_. _They had to find another way…_

Hermione ran up the stairs, coughing and shielding her mouth with her cloak. "Everley!" she shouted.

"In here!"

She ran into his dorm. "What are you doing?"

"I need to find my broom…There! Look! It's stuck…help me lift this."

She craned her neck to see what he was looking at. His broom was trapped under a four poster. They positioned themselves at each end of it.

Roman nodded at her. "On the count of three."

"One….two…three! Push!"

They lifted the bed. Roman grabbed hold of his broom and urged her forward.

"We have to go. Come on."

He mounted the broom and Hermione scrambled up behind him.

They zoomed down the stairs and back into the common room, dodging flames and falling paintings.

"Is there anyone else here?" he asked, squinting through the flames.

"No, they all made it to the corridor before the statue fell."

"Alright, hold on."

They flew out of the broken window.

As soon as the night air hit their faces, curses whizzed past them. Hermione looked down and saw a sea of hooded figures.

Roman swerved the broom to the left.

"Hold on!"

"We need to get inside the castle again!" Hermione shouted. "The seventh floor!"

He was a skilled flyer, dodging spells and curses, spinning the broom out of the way whenever one got too close.

"There's so many of them," he said, looking down at the Death Eaters.

In the distance Hermione could see more of Voldemort's army gathering. He had brought all sorts of creatures with him. Dragons, dementors and who knew what else. She thought she heard the distant howl of a wolf. They would be at the castle gates much sooner than she'd predicted.

A jet of green light shot past her ear. "Hurry!" she shouted. "That window there."

The Death Eaters sent another round of curses at them, but Roman spun them out of the way just in time.

They were flying upside down now, moving at breakneck speed…

They crashed through the seventh floor window. Hermione cried out in pain as shards of glass cut her face and arms.

One piece of glass lodged itself firmly into her leg.

With a forceful jerk they were unseated from the broom, landing facedown on the cold, stone floor.

Hermione felt her lip burst open and bleed.

"Watch out!" Roman shouted.

The broom hit the wall, smashing to pieces.

Hermione covered her head with her hands as the debris rained down on them.

When it was over she lifted herself up cautiously. The corridor was empty.

She yanked the glass out of her leg, stifling a cry of pain as she tossed it aside.

"Do you hear that?" asked Roman, lying on the ground next to her.

They heard the sound of rushing wings, and shrill, high pitched shrieks.

"What the—" he started.

A flock of fire birds pelted through the window, flying straight at them.

"Get up," yelled Roman, reaching for her arm. "Come on!"

He yanked her up and they raced down the corridor.

"Granger?! Is that you?!" said a second voice.

Pansy turned the corner and crashed headlong into Hermione.

"Where have you—"

She stopped short, her eyes widening in surprise when she saw what they were running from.

"Fire birds," she said weakly. "Come on, follow me!"

They tore down the halls, chasing after Pansy, turning left then right then left again.

"They're gaining on us!" Hermione shouted as she looked over her shoulder.

"Here!" said Pansy, stopping suddenly.

She pulled back a tapestry to reveal—a solid wall.

"Where have you taken us?!" Roman cried in disbelief.

Pansy dug her hand into her pocket and pulled out a flat gold pendant. She pressed it to the wall. There was a flash of blinding blue light. Hermione instinctively put her hands up to shield her eyes.

The wall began to dissolve stone by stone until it was completely gone, revealing a small corridor beyond.

The three of them ran inside, and Pansy crouched down, tapping the floor with her wand.

She muttered an incantation.

"Hurry!" Hermione urged, hearing the roar of the birds draw nearer.

A trap door appeared out of thin air, and Pansy reached for the handle.

She rattled the door.

"It won't budge! It's stuck!"

The high-pitched shrieks grew louder.

"They're getting closer, we're not going to make it!" Hermione warned.

Pansy and Roman tugged the door with all their might.

Hermione ducked her head into the hall. The beasts were turning the corner, making a dive for them.

"There!" Pansy shouted.

Hermione turned. The trap door had swung open.

"Once you're down stay close," Pansy instructed. "Don't dream, or you'll be lost. I'll need the two of you to open the entrance."

Hermione and Roman looked at her like she'd gone mad, but there was no time to ask questions.

The fire birds were upon them.

Roman raised his wand. "Expecto patronum!"

A silver blue fox erupted from his wand, and charged at the birds. They scattered left and right, momentarily stunned.

Hermione looked over her shoulder just in time to see Pansy shoot down into the dark abyss below. Roman made to follow, but hesitated, looking at Hermione for the briefest of moments.

He didn't trust Pansy and he didn't trust her, but the alternative was to face a fiery death, and so he lowered himself down.

The top of his head disappeared just as the birds moved back into formation.

Hermione was out of time. Roman's patronus was weakening, and the birds were preparing to charge at her. She ran towards the trap door and made a jump for it.

A rush of cold air hit her face as she shot down into the abyss.

She heard the door swing shut above her and everything went dark.

As she fell, for some strange reason Harry and Ron's faces flashed through her mind.

Here she was going down a secret passage like so many times before…except tonight she didn't have her friends with her.

She let the wave of nostalgia crash over her, wondering where Harry and Ron were, if they were safe, and how on earth they ended up so far apart.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle continues...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a lengthy one, and very intense as the battle continues! I considered dividing it up into two chapters, but I didn’t want you to wait a whole other week. Enjoy, and thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter!
> 
> Please note: This chapter depicts scenes of war-time violence.

Hermione plummeted down the secret passage.

A white mist wrapped around her, binding her body, overpowering her.

It suspended her in thin air.

She tried to move, but her arms were pinned to her sides, like she was wearing a straight jacket.

The mist swallowed her whole. It covered her from head to toe and a sweet-smelling scent filled her senses, drugging her. She felt dizzy, her eyes started to close…

The mist pushed her forward, building in speed, but she could do nothing to stop it. She was like a rag doll, tossed forward against her will.

Hermione's eyes shot open. She sensed a shift in her surroundings. There was light, so much light it was blinding.

She saw a large wooden door. She hesitated and stood stock still. She had no idea what was behind it…

The mist loosened its hold on her and she walked towards it, curious…

Her footsteps echoed loudly in her ears.

She was about to reach for the handle when she was yanked back by an invisible cord.

The scene changed.

She was outside, walking in a field of lilies, but something was wrong. When she tried to touch the flowers they moved out of reach, and the sun was bright on her face but she didn't feel it's warmth.

Hermione jumped back.

The flowers had started to grow, they shot up and towered above her, arching over and around her.

She ran blindly, trying to fight her way out…but then the scene shifted and she was pulled back into the white mist. It reached for her with icy fingers and twirled her like a spinning top.

Hermione's stomach clenched and everything shifted again.

She was standing on a roof now. The air was warm around her and the sun was setting. Harry was next to her. He was looking down into a well. He looked at her with his bright green eyes, beckoning her to follow him. He gestured to the open door behind him…a door that revealed a long spiral staircase.

Hermione froze.

She'd had this dream before, and she knew how it ended. She couldn't follow him.

She turned away from Harry and walked back to the well, but just as she reached it, the scene in front of her vanished. The ground tilted and she fell back into the mist.

_What had Pansy said? Don't dream or you'll be lost….don't dream or…_

Another door appeared in front of her, but she moved away from it. _It wasn't real, none of this was real._

The mist dissolved.

She fell through thin air and hit solid ground.

 _Actual_ solid ground.

Someone knelt beside her.

"She's disoriented," the person said, but their voice sounded like it came from very far away.

"We'll have to give her a shock."

Hermione's head snapped to the side. Someone had slapped her. Her eyes watered and her cheek stung.

She blinked at her surroundings. She saw blurred shapes and it was several seconds before she could see properly again.

There were two people hovering above her…Pansy and Roman.

"What happened?" she said slowly.

"You only fell ten feet, Granger," Pansy replied.

Hermione looked up, she could still make out the outline of the trap door.

"Then why did it feel like forever?"

"It's a spell," Pansy said. "An illusion to trap unwelcome visitors."

"You didn't think to tell us how to fight it?" Roman said angrily. "We could have been stuck like that for hours."

"I didn't have much time, did I?" Pansy snapped. "Those fire birds nearly—"

"Enough," Hermione said. "We need to find Malfoy."

Roman shook his head at her. "I don't _care_ about Malfoy. The only reason I followed you here, was so that you'd tell me where my brother was."

Hermione turned to him. "If you help us, I'll take you to him, I promise."

Roman cursed loudly and pointed an accusing finger at Pansy. "What if she's tricking you, Granger? Trying to trap you and save you for the Death Eaters? Did you ever think of that?!"

"I—" Hermione's voice faltered. An uneasiness settled in the pit of her stomach. _Had she been stupid in coming here, in trusting Pansy?_

"I don't have a twisted plan for Granger," Pansy said, irritated. "I want to help Malfoy, that's all."

Roman raised an eyebrow at her skeptically. "Give me your wand."

Pansy rolled her eyes.

"Hand it over," he insisted.

The Slytherin pressed the wand into his hand. "Happy?"

"Go on," Roman said, pointing down the passage. "Lead the way."

He and Hermione held their wands out in front of them, following Pansy as she moved down the corridor.

It was very dark and they could hardly see.

Pansy only walked for a few minutes before she came to a sudden halt.

She lifted her wand. "The passage ends here. Lumos," she whispered.

A beam of light was cast onto the wall in front of them.

There were markings on the wall…engravings of old symbols…and in the center, a large hourglass.

Hermione squinted at the markings…they looked familiar. She thought back to Ancient Runes…third year….but she couldn't quite place them. She tried to memorize their design, hoping to remember them later on.

Pansy pressed her palm to the wall, over the first engraving. She gasped in pain. Blood was drawn from her hand and trickled down to fill the hour glass.

"It draws our blood?" Roman asked apprehensively. "Why?"

"You'll see," said Pansy. "When we enter the next room."

Hermione stepped closer to inspect the wall. There was an inscription in latin at the bottom of the hour glass. It read: Only united can the truth be discovered. Three minds alike. Three minds enlightened.

 _What truth?_ she wondered.

"Your turn," Pansy said sharply.

Hermione pressed her hand to the wall. She felt a pinch and a stab.

She bit her lip as her blood was drawn. She watched it slowly fill the hour glass.

Roman was next.

He swore loudly and shot Pansy a suspicious glare as his blood was taken.

When the hour glass was full, the door moved aside to reveal a very narrow passage.

Hermione frowned. It wasn't big enough for them to stand in.

"We'll have to crawl through it," Pansy said, lowering herself down.

After a moment's hesitation Hermione followed.

The space was hot and cramped. Hermione crawled forward on her hands and knees, trying to move as quickly as possible. Every so often her head would hit the top of the passage.

"Watch it," she warned, when the heel of Pansy's shoe moved dangerously close to her face.

"Are we almost there?!" Roman shouted behind them.

"Just a bit more," Pansy replied.

They heard the distant sounds of bangs and curses. Voldemort's attack on the castle was intensifying and Hermione guessed it wouldn't be long before he made it inside.

She felt a cold dread sweep through her. They were taking too long. How much time had passed since she'd left Ginny in the entrance hall? Had she listened to her and gone to the dungeons? She only had until midnight and then the ship from Durmstrang would sail away without her.

She had to get the younger students out of the school before it was too late.

Malfoy had lied to her, he was a Death Eater and all logic told her she shouldn't trust him. But she couldn't let him die.…

Time and time again she remembered the night he kissed her on the astronomy tower…the feel of his arms around her waist, his lips warm against hers. Something about that kiss told her there was something more to him than his arrogance and icy exterior. He wasn't as confident and sure of everything as he seemed. In that moment he had needed her. And despite her best efforts she hadn't been able to forget that kiss…the intensity of it.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Pansy.

"We're nearing the end," she said.

A few seconds later they emerged on the other side of the passage. They saw a set of stairs and a small silver door at the top.

"We'll be tested…before it opens to us," Pansy said slowly, trying to catch her breath. "The walls absorbed our blood, the founders know our deepest thoughts, our fears. They'll want to know if we're worthy."

"Worthy of what?" Roman asked.

Pansy raised an eyebrow. "Worthy of keeping their secrets."

"I don't understand," said Hermione. "How did you find this place?"

"The Gray Lady. She told Draco about it," Pansy said, staring at the silver door. "The chambers inside are empty, but this place holds _something_. Something the founders wanted to hide. But we never found out what it was…"

They slowly climbed to the top of the stairs and halted in front of the silver door.

Pansy stepped forward and extended the tip of her wand.

A grey mist reached out to them, and split in three. A hand emerged from each end, reaching out to touch them…

Hermione's head turned to the side of its own accord…

 _Young girl of fifteen, come to seek the truth,_ said a soft, melodic voice.

Hermione's blood chilled. She couldn't move. Something had taken control of her body. She was compelled to kneel and place her hands out, palms up.

_A true Gryffindor, courageous and daring, but is your purpose noble or self-serving?_

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

 _I've come to save a friend_ , she thought, hoping the bodiless voice would understand.

 _Save a friend_ , the voice laughed mirthlessly. _And risk the lives of countless others. The youngest and purest of Hogwarts school."_

 _No_ , Hermione thought. _I want to save them both._

_A selfish choice to save your lover. To save one, instead of many._

Hermione panicked. _Malfoy was not her lover._

 _But you want him to be,_ the voice said. _"You've dreamt of it, even though he's hurt you…hurt your friends…"_

Hermione's heart sank. The voice seemed to be reaching into her subconscious, into the furthest corners of her mind.

 _Yes_ , she thought. _I want him even though I shouldn't, even though he's hurt me. But that's not why I'm here. I'm here to save a life, a life that deserves a second chance. And Malfoy's life is not less than mine,_ she thought angrily. _His life is not less than anyone else's. He deserves to live._

The voice laughed quietly, but it was fainter than before. _"Good luck, Ms. Granger of Gryffindor…you have answered…truthfully."_

Hermione felt the mist release its hold.

The feeling returned to her body. She could control her movements again.

Hermione looked around her.

Pansy and Roman were on either side of her. They had passed the test too.

The silver door above them clicked open.

Hermione stood, and the three of them walked up the steps.

Pansy pushed the door open.

They walked down a corridor. On the wall was a painting of a large golden unicorn.

As Hermione guessed, Romena's guards had abandoned their posts.

Their mouths dropped open when they reached the end of the corridor.

The chambers were enormous.

The rooms had high vaulted ceilings, and stained glass windows. There were towering columns, and the crest of each founder was emblazoned above every chamber.

The air was thick with magic. Hermione looked up at the sky-high ceiling. She was amazed that these chambers fit inside the seventh floor of the castle.

On the far right, there was a wall different from the rest. There was a fading outline on it, and Hermione guessed it was the original entrance to the chambers. There must have been a door there, but it was sealed off now.

"In here!" Pansy cried. She had run to the chamber to the far left.

Roman and Hermione hurried to catch up with her.

They spotted Malfoy lying on the ground. His back was exposed, caked in dried blood.

Pansy rushed to his side and untied the rope binding his wrists, then stopped short when she saw the welts on his back.

His flesh was still raw from Romena's lashings.

Hermione's eyes widened in horror. He had been tortured, just as Pansy had feared.

"Scourgify," Pansy said, cleaning his wounds. She performed a healing spell and his torn flesh began to sew itself back together.

Draco grimaced with pain, feeling invisible needles threading through his skin.

When it was over he collapsed into Pansy's arms, exhausted.

"They weren't healed in time, they'll scar," Pansy said slowly, tracing his injuries with her hand. "I'm sorry we didn't get here sooner."

Hermione's stomach twisted uncomfortably. Draco was lying half naked in Pansy's arms, and although she knew the two were intimately acquainted she didn't like seeing it for herself. The two Slytherins spoke to each other with the ease and familiarity that came with knowing each other for years. She supposed at one point she'd had that ease and familiarity with Ron—but things had never progressed beyond friendship. They had never held each other the way that Pansy and Draco—

"What about his leg? It's broken," Roman observed, interrupting her thoughts.

Hermione turned to him. "We're not meant to learn advanced healing spells until seventh year."

"Isn't there _anything_ you've read that can help him?" asked Pansy. "All those hours you spend in the library—"

Hermione shook her head. "I'm no expert in mending bones. Short of levitating him—"

Pansy laughed. "That won't help if we're attacked and need to make a run for it. He needs to be able to defend himself."

"Come now Granger," Malfoy drawled.

Hermione jumped. The sound of his voice shocked her. He hadn't spoken a word since they entered the Founder's Chambers. He hadn't even spared her a glance.

"Second year," Malfoy prompted as he lifted his gray eyes to meet hers.

Hermione frowned at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Lockhart turned Potter's arm to jelly that year. You're telling me you _didn't_ run to the library to find out why? Surely, you wanted to know how the spell was properly done?"

_Damn him, damn him and his ability to see right through her…_

"I—I did," said Hermione angrily. "But it's a very advanced spell and I've never performed it. Second year was a long time ago. I didn't read up on it again."

He rolled his eyes at her. "Liar."

"Excuse me?!"

Draco smirked. "You mean to tell me there's a spell you weren't interested in learning? A spell you weren't interested in _perfecting_?"

She sighed heavily. "Malfoy I know you won't like it, but we'll just have to levitate you and hope for the best."

"Coward."

That was the second time he had called her that this year. Hermione's hands balled into fists. Her patience neared its breaking point, like an overflowing cauldron about to bubble over.

"It's a very complicated spell," she said firmly. "If it's not done right…your leg can be damaged permanently."

Draco shrugged at her. "Scarhead looked just fine to me."

Hermione resisted the urge to swear at him. "That's only because Madame Pomfrey got to him in time. If she hadn't, the Skele-Gro wouldn't have worked. It's the sort of thing that has to be administered right away."

Of course, she had never told Harry this. He had been so furious with Lockhart at the time…

She looked at Malfoy again. "No one will help us if things go wrong."

"I'm aware of that," he said coldly. "I don't care."

Hermione threw her hands up in frustration. "Malfoy—"

"I trust you," he said, cutting her off.

Hermione's mouth dropped open.

_She wasn't expecting that._

"I trust that you'll do it right."

Hermione gaped at him, unable to believe what her ears were hearing.

"You're—you're just trying to flatter me so that I'll do what you want," she said, crossing her arms.

Malfoy sighed. "Granger, take the poker out of your a—"

"Go to hell, Malfoy!" she shouted angrily.

"Gladly! Only right now I'm stuck here with _you._ I can't walk away now, can I?!"

"For the love of Merlin," Roman interrupted. "Will you do the bloody spell, Hermione?"

He pulled her to the side, away from Pansy and Draco.

"We need to get out of here. And as soon as we do, you're going to tell me how to find my brother. That's the only reason I agreed to come with you, and you're wasting my time."

Hermione looked at Roman guiltily. She couldn't tell him about the evacuation and the ship waiting at the bottom of the lake. She'd have to modify his memory once they were out, there was no other way.

But Roman was right. She needed to get back to Ginny, to her mission. She didn't have the luxury of time. She only had until midnight.

"Fine," she said. "I'll do it."

Hermione knelt in front of Draco. Their eyes met. His expression was strange. Outwardly he appeared irritated, but there was something in his eyes. Almost like he was shocked to see her there, like he hadn't expected her to help him.

"Well…get on with it," he said impatiently, as if she was a house elf preparing his tea.

Hermione bit back her retort and rolled up his pant leg carefully.

His skin was swollen and bruised, and the bones in his lower leg were fractured. She reached out to touch the void space between the broken ends, seeing where she needed to focus the energy of the spell.

Draco did his best to keep his face blank but his mind was spinning. He had wondered if he would ever see Hermione again…if their angry kiss in the hospital wing had been their last. He studied her face, but he couldn't tell if she was glad to see him, or if she resented him for dragging her here.

Hermione's hand was warm and slightly trembling. She was nervous, and so was he, but he refused to show it.

She raised her wand, and made every effort to keep her wand arm steady. _If this went wrong…_

Draco sighed heavily. "By all means take your time."

"Don't distract me," Hermione snapped.

She focused her attention again, remembering the incantation."Brackium Emendo!" she shouted.

Draco screwed his eyes shut. He felt a tug, then a sudden, building pressure.

Hermione stared down at his leg, her face rapt with attention. His skin was becoming translucent….

_What had the spell book said?_

_The caster will catch a glimpse of a shift then a swift break and a renewal. The caster must not break contact at any point…_

Beads of cold sweat ran down her forehead. She saw the bones move and reassemble.

They were aligning themselves now, a callus forming around them, a soft bridge between the broken parts of the bone. She watched the callus harden…

The next few seconds seemed to last an eternity, and the silence spiraled horribly as they all waited with bated breath.

The callus fell away…revealing solid bone…

Draco refused to open his eyes, but then he heard Hermione breath a sigh of relief.

"Try moving," she said.

He opened his eyes and nodded.

It was extremely painful but he was able to shift his leg left and right.

The bones had regenerated.

Hermione waved Roman over. "Help me lift him."

Once he was up, Draco attempted to walk. His leg trembled violently, but he was able to force himself to move across the room.

"It'll get better as the hours go by," Hermione told him.

"Take this," Pansy said, digging for something in the pocket of her robes. She handed Draco a wand. "I stole it from Goyle. I figured you'd need it more than him."

Draco smirked at her. "Thanks Pans."

His shirt lay discarded in a corner of the room. He collected it and mended it with Goyle's wand.

The wand shot sparks before it did his bidding.

Draco threw the shirt over his head, and nodded at Hermione. It was time to leave.

They were about to make their way to the exit when they heard a loud rumble.

"What was that?" Hermione said quietly.

The castle was rocked to its foundations, and there was an earth-shattering blast.

"Get back!" Malfoy shouted at Hermione.

The entire room swayed back and forth.

Hermione stood paralyzed, unable to move. The floor seemed to tilt sideways…

The ceiling caved in and Pansy and Roman scrambled to get out of the way.

Malfoy pressed her against the wall, blocking her body with his own.

Hermione could barely see through the falling debris.

It felt like Voldemort had hit the castle with something much stronger than before.

"We need to make a run for it!" Roman shouted.

Something heavy grazed Hermione's shoulder and she cried out in pain.

Draco took her hand, and they rushed towards the exit.

Pansy and Roman were ten paces ahead of them.

Everything around them was crashing down. A pillar next to them crumbled, and a cascade of heavy objects spilled out of it and onto the floor.

There were swords, shields, silver necklaces, goblets and a book inlaid with gold. It lay half open on the floor.

"Granger, watch out!" Pansy screamed.

Something heavy struck the back of Hermione's head.

She collapsed, hitting the ground.

The room swam in front of her, and she tried to steady herself but her hand brushed the edge of the book.

There was a flash of blinding light and the room spun with such ferocity, Hermione thought she would be sick. Draco and Pansy's faces were a blur. Then she saw other figures, flashes of them, clad in medieval gowns running through the chambers. They darted past her.

"Attack, attack on the castle!" they cried.

The wall on the far right was no longer sealed. There was a large oak door in its place.

Seconds later it was thrown open, and a group of vicious-looking men burst through it.

They were holding torches, looking for the women.

"Witches, hang the witches!" they cried.

She heard one of the women scream. "Hurry! They'll kill us all!"

_None of this made any sense…_

The oak door trembled, then was gone, replaced by solid wall again.

The women vanished.

"HERMIONE!"

Malfoy was shaking her senseless. His face loomed above hers. "The chamber is collapsing. We have to get out of here."

Hermione snapped the book shut and tucked it under her arm.

Malfoy dragged her up, and the four of them rushed towards the exit, Hermione still bewildered and disoriented. She could still hear and see the screaming women, the men with torches, the oak door, the sealed wall and the world falling apart around them.

Malfoy pushed her forward and she lowered herself down into the narrow passage that led to the exit.

"Faster, or we'll be trapped!" Pansy shouted.

Everything was crumbling around them.

_What if they were buried alive? And if by some miracle they survived…no one knew where they were…no one except for Romena…_

The next few minutes felt like hours as they crawled through the passage, and all they could hear was their own heavy breathing.

The blasts and bangs continued as Voldemort continued to fight his way into the castle.

_Had the Order arrived? If they joined forces with the Hogwarts Guard maybe there was still a chance…_

Seconds later they reached the end of the passage.

The four of them hurried to the small silver door at the end of the corridor, flung it open, and tore down the steps. They raced down the next passage and minutes later, made it to the final chamber.

"Lumos," Pansy shouted.

They looked up, the trap door was only ten feet above them.

"Alohomora!" Pansy shouted. The trap door above them shot open, and a beam of light fell across their faces. They heard the deafening sounds of blasts and curses.

They hesitated, unsure if it was more dangerous outside than down in the passage. But they had no other choice…

"Ascendio!" Pansy shouted. She shot up into the air, landing a foot away from the trap door.

"Come on!" she said, waving them up.

Hermione followed, then Roman and Malfoy.

The fire birds were gone. But something was wrong.

The smell of heavy smoke filled the air.

They walked down the corridor and took in their surroundings. The walls were completely blackened. It looked like there had been another fire.

_The Death Eaters…were they already inside?_

They walked on until they reached the north wing, Roman in the lead. He froze mid-step.

"What is it?" Pansy asked.

Hermione's mouth fell open in horror.

There were bodies littered all over the floor, some of them scorched beyond recognition.

Hermione gagged. The smell of burnt flesh overpowered her senses.

Malfoy placed his hand on her shoulder, and she started shaking, unable to process the sight in front of her.

She was sure they were students, Gryffindors who hadn't made it out in time.

This meant only one thing. _The Death Eaters were in the castle, and so was Voldemort._

She needed to get to the first and second years…to Ginny, before it was too late.

Roman checked for survivors, but there was no sign of life.

Hermione was sure that these students were muggleborns, killed by the Death Eaters to set an example. For the first time in her life she wasn't sure if she could follow through with her plans. She was so consumed by rage that she couldn't think clearly, she wanted to join the Order and fight. She wanted to banish the Death Eaters from the grounds, she wanted to make them pay for what they'd done…

But she couldn't….she had a mission…there were people relying on her.

"We should go," said Hermione after a while, her voice trembling. She couldn't stand the smell.

They hurried away, moving cautiously, their wands at the ready, knowing they might be attacked at any moment.

Seconds later they reached the landing of the seventh floor.

Once again, Hermione's mouth dropped open in shock.

The staircases were gone, completely obliterated. Entire chunks of the castle had been blasted away. Half of the ceiling had crumbled, revealing an inky black sky.

She couldn't see them, but she sensed the Dementors floating above them. She felt the unmistakable chill that accompanied their presence.

Rain was pouring down from the sky, making the floor slick and wet. They could hear the distant clap of thunder.

"We have to find a broom," Roman said slowly. "We need to get down to the lower floors."

There was a snapping sound and what remained of the ceiling started to collapse.

A hail of debris rained down on them. Malfoy dragged her out of the way, and Pansy and Roman ran in the opposite direction.

Chunks fell from the ceiling, and she and Malfoy flattened themselves against the wall.

"Where's my brother, Granger?!" Roman shouted from across the way.

"He's safe," Hermione cried. "He's safe!"

"You promised me!" was the last thing she heard Roman shout before the last of the rubble fell between them and he and Pansy were blocked from view.

_Burn the witches! Slash their necks!_

Hermione turned, the men with torches were running down the corridor.

_The men she had seen in the chamber…she had to stop them…before they killed…_

She stepped forward.

"What are you doing?!" Malfoy cried. He pushed her back against the wall.

Hermione couldn't tell which war she was in. The one from hundreds of years ago or this one.

But the feel of terror and death was the same.

There was a loud cry, and she looked up.

A group of wizards were on broomsticks, fighting in mid-air.

Hermione recognized Kingsley Shacklebolt, Elphias Doge and other members of the Order. They were shooting curses at three Death Eaters.

Elphias Doge hit Walden Macnair squarely in the chest and he flew off his broom, crashing into Yaxley behind him.

Kingsley was about to curse Alecto Carrow, when he caught sight of Hermione and Draco. He abandoned the fight and made a dive for them, landing haphazardly on the ground next to them. He wasted no time and dug his wand into Malfoy's chest. "Avada—"

"NO! HE'S WITH ME!" Hermione screamed. "HE'S ON OUR SIDE!"

Malfoy didn't know what shocked him more, Shaklebolt's attempt to kill him, or Hermione's declaration.

Hermione hadn't been sure of her opinion until now, but in the past hour Malfoy had various opportunities to harm her and he hadn't done so. She no longer had a reason to doubt him.

Kingsley dragged Hermione away.

"Dumbledore gave you a mission, Ms. Granger. You have directly defied orders."

"We can't leave him," Hermione interrupted, digging her heels into the ground. "Malfoy has information that can help the Order. He witnessed countless meetings between Voldemort and his followers. He's valuable to our cause."

The small flicker of hope inside Malfoy's chest quickly extinguished. _Of course_ , he thought. Hermione didn't care for him. She vouched for him because she thought he was useful to the Order…

Rogue curses shot over their heads as the fight above them continued.

"Malfoy's knowledge can help Harry," Hermione insisted. "Plans, codes, hideouts. We can't let that kind of information slip through our fingers."

She was about to speak again when Carrow caught sight of them. He raised his wand high.

Kingsley made a split second decision."Get on, both of you!" he shouted, reaching for his broom.

The three of them jumped on and they dived down, narrowly missing Carrow's curse by inches.

They heard screaming.

A few remaining paintings hung askew on the walls. Their occupants cried out in panic as stray curses hit the walls below and above them.

Draco looked behind him, wondering if Carrow aimed to kill. _Hadn't Voldemort warned him? They needed Granger alive. She was the only way to Potter._

Carrow winked at him and he raised his wand again.

When they were a few feet from the ground Kingsley was hit with a confundus charm. He lost control of the broom and they swerved dangerously.

"We're not going to make it!" Hermione shouted.

Draco and Hermione fell sideways off the broom, and landed with a crash on the floor.

Kingsley flew back up at an alarming speed, and a jet of green light shot from Carrow's wand. It hit Kingsely in the head, and he flew through the air, spinning dangerously, then shot back down, landing next to them with a thunderous crash.

He was dead.

Above them they heard shouting. The Order had flown down, and they were surrounding Carrow. They shot spells at him but he fought back, darting out of the way each time they attacked.

Hermione and Draco crawled forward, trying to find cover amidst the chaos.

There were bodies everywhere.

Most of them were members of the Hogwarts Guard. They were bleeding and foaming at the mouth. All of them had thin, vein-like lines on the sides of their faces, showing telltale signs of Voldemort's new killing curse.

There were loud blasts and bangs coming from the Great Hall.

Draco helped Hermione up and they rushed towards the entrance, taking in the scene before them.

They saw students and teachers fighting the Death Eaters. Bellatrix Lestrange was dueling several members of the Hogwarts guard. The enchanted ceiling above them was shooting darts of lightning, and in a corner McGonagall was fighting with Snape. He had apparently decided his loyalties.

In the center of the chaos was Dumbledore, and in front of him was a very tall wizard.

"Where is Potter?" said the wizard in a high, cold voice.

Hermione gasped.

His face was snake-like. His scarlet eyes shone bright. His hands resembled large pale spiders, and they closed around his wand with a sort of fervent excitement.

It was the first time Hermione had ever laid eyes on Voldemort. Before today, he was only a shadow, an echo of an old nightmare that everyone wished to forget.

She felt a sudden chill. Although Harry had described him to her, nothing prepared her for seeing the real thing.

"We have to move," Draco whispered.

Behind them Carrow was flying down the corridor, and the Order was shooting spells at him. They were aiming to kill, and Hermione and Draco were standing directly in their path.

There was nowhere to run. They had no choice but to dash inside the Great Hall.

They took cover under a table as curses flew past their heads.

Voldemort smelled of rot, death and decay. He moved as if he were underwater, slow and purposeful, and his robes seemed to drift up and around him off their own accord.

It looked like he and Dumbledore had been fighting for some time now. There was destruction all around them. The walls were torn apart where their spells had rebounded or missed.

Dumbledore flicked his wand and a powerful, howling wind formed.

It had the force of a miniature hurricane. Goblets, plates and chairs flew into the air and circled around them.

Hermione and Draco clutched the leg of their table, fearing they'd be swept up.

Voldemort's balance wavered, but then he brandished his wand and fired a powerful curse, a curse that emitted a blinding white light.

The curse missed Dumbledore's head by inches and blasted into the wall behind him. There was an explosion, much like that of a nuclear bomb and a ring of white light stretched out in front of them.

Their cloaks flapped violently, and for a fraction of a second Dumbledore was blinded by the dazzling light.

And Voldemort saw his moment.

"Mors Multarum!"

Dumbledore was blown backward by Voldemort's new killing curse.

He writhed on the floor, his mouth open in silent agony as his insides were consumed by an invisible fire. As Hermione had seen in her dream with Harry, patches of light burned bright on his arm, and like a network of veins they traveled up to his neck then to his forehead. The lights blazed brilliantly then faded.

Dumbledore reached out, extending his fingers. His wand was only a few feet away but it would not come, it sensed his disloyalty to Voldemort.

Hermione heard Malfoy inhale sharply. He was recalling the memory Romena had stolen from him. The memory of Helen and Mason McKay's meeting in the garden. _So it was true_. Voldemort could take away magic and replace himself as the wand's core. And his first victim was Dumbledore.

Voldemort eyes gleamed with pleasure. "You have lived your last day Dumbledore. And in time, everything you are, everything you've fought for, will be forgotten."

Everyone had stopped fighting, stunned into silence.

Blood trickled down Dumbledore's mouth. "I may not live forever Tom, but what I leave behind will outlast us all. Death is not the end for me…but only the beginning."

"You were born a fool," Voldemort said coldly, kneeling next to him. "And you'll die one."

"Oh no," Dumbledore said brightly. "A fool would not die knowing that the best is yet to come. You have just just sealed your fate Tom, in more ways than one."

Dumbledore reached up and took Voldemort's face in his hands, as he would a son, and whispered something into his ear.

Tom's eyes widened for the briefest of moments…then flashed dangerously.

"Catherine lives," Dumbledore whispered. "And she's closer than you know."

Dumbledore was already dying, but it wasn't fast enough for Voldemort.

He closed his hands around Dumbledore' neck and squeezed tightly, watching the life ebb out of him.

Dumbledore reached for Voldemort's wrist.

They stared into each other eyes…challenging each other…but Dumbledore did not break.

He was prepared to die, and ready to look his killer firmly in the eye as he did so.

Many of the students looked on in horror, silent tears streaming down their faces. They felt utterly powerless as they watched their headmaster die in front of them.

Dumbledore's half-moon spectacles slid down his face. A moment later his mouth went slack and he moved no more. 

Voldemort rose and aimed his wand at Dumbledore's chest.

"Lacarnum inflamare."

Dumbledore's body was set ablaze.

"Watch as the great Dumbledore burns!" Bellatrix cried, springing forward. Passionate joy flooded her face.

"Stand back!" Voldemort screamed.

Bellatrix hunched over and dropped down to the floor, begging her master for forgiveness.

Voldemort faced them all, the flames dancing in his snake-like eyes. "Your beloved headmaster is gone, nothing more than a corpse. Surrender now or meet the same end."

He walked among the crowd, meeting the onlookers in the eye.

He spat into the flames, and they doubled, completely devouring Dumbledore's body.

Hermione did not realize she had been holding her breath, but she gasped as Voldemort moved closer to the edge of the hall.

"This tottering old fool, this devout muggle lover, failed all of you. It seems he did not learn history's valuable lessons. Muggles have sought to extinguish our kind in the past..and they will again…but we are prepared…we will not live in the shadows any longer to ease their feeble minds. Muggles will know wizards are not a mere fairytale but a very _tangible_ reality."

Hermione clutched Malfoy's arm as Voldemort moved closer to their hiding spot.

"And mudbloods," he said coldly, "shall serve us as they were always meant to do. In our armies, in our manors, in our beds."

There were raucous shouts of approval from the Death Eaters. Several students in the hall shuddered involuntarily, unable to contemplate the sordid fate that awaited them as the world they knew fell away.

Hermione could see the flames from Dumbledore's body reflected in McGonagall's spectacles. Her eyes were wide, disbelieving. Behind her stood Romena Wright and the surviving members of the Hogwarts Guard. Next to her was Snape. His face was expressionless, his eyes unreadable.

There was a roaring sound and they all watched the fire from Dumbledore's body rise impossibly high. It flared out and spread, setting fire to everything in its reach—tables, tapestries and cloaks.

In a matter of moments the entire hall was on fire.

Cries turned to screams as they ran outside—students, teachers and Death Eaters alike.

Malfoy took her hand and they made a run for it, pulled into the tide of the panicked crowd.

People were pushing and shoving, desperate to get out.

Then they heard a distant blast.

"The allies, they're here!" someone shouted from the grounds.

Hermione and Draco spilled out into the corridor and spotted a man with a shock of red hair. Hermione recognized his large mustache and his white suit with pale blue trim—Aksel Agarby.

He had promised the allies would come…and they had, at last…

Hermione saw a flash of red and gold and spotted Fawkes soaring above her. Something landed on her lap.

It was a letter with Dumbledore's seal. She tried to open it but the seal would not break. She stuffed the letter into her pocket, and watched the surviving members of the Order race outside to join Aksel.

Behind them Voldemort gave a cry of fury. He stormed past the crowd and rushed outside, many of the Death Eaters at his heels.

And from a distance she could see a blue and white flag, signaling the arrival of the Magical Alliance.

The allies were hauling massive weapons onto the grounds, and they'd brought with them creatures she'd never seen before. Creatures made entirely of fire, flying in the night sky above them.

"We have to get out of here," Draco whispered.

But they were sardined in the corridor, unable to move.

Hermione spotted Dean and Seamus a few feet away from her, and a couple more Gryffindors ahead of them.

The students were desperate to join the fight outside but then a Death Eater yelled,

"Bombarda!"

Hermione stumbled and fell.

Her ears were ringing.

There was smoke everywhere.

Seamus landed next to her.

Something like acid had fallen on his face and his skin was melting, disintegrating before her very eyes.

He was screaming in agony. She tried to think of a spell to help him, anything to ease his pain, but then a Death Eater shot another curse their way and she was forced to move back.

There was a second explosion, and she fell again. People were running past her and she couldn't see Malfoy. In their mad dash to escape, they had been separated.

People were being trampled. The Death Eaters were killing anyone who challenged them…

Hermione pushed herself up. She searched the crowd for Draco. _Where was he? Not outside…surely…_

She moved in the opposite direction of the crowd. What if she couldn't find him?

She needed to get to Ginny and the younger students…she couldn't waste anymore time.

She ran down a corridor, then another, then another…

Her heart thumped wildly in her chest. Maybe she should turn back—then she realized something.

_She wasn't holding her wand. She had dropped it when she fell! She had to go back—_

"Well if it isn't Potter's _mudblood_."

Hermione froze.

She didn't recognize the voice, but she heard the malice in it, the venom in the words.

She spun around.

Rookwood was standing behind her. She recognized his scarred and battered face from the Daily Prophet. He had followed her, and he was holding her wand in his hand.

Hermione's blood ran cold. She tried to form words but she choked on them. An icy fear gripped her chest, paralyzing her.

Rookwood raised his wand and she flew backwards, hitting the stone wall behind her.

The impact stunned her, and she sank to the floor.

She tried to pick herself up, but her arms trembled.

Rookwood's heavy boots echoed on the stone floor as he approached her.

Hermione tried to subdue her panic. _She was wandless, but she could still outmaneuver him if she tried hard enough…she had to focus her magic into one solid point of energy…_

L _evicorpus_ she thought _. Levicorpus._

She imagined Rookwood hoisted in the air by his ankle, she tried to envision it clear as day…but the spell didn't take shape. Her magic sputtered like a flickering flame.

Rookwood dug the heel of his boot into her lower back and rolled her over.

 **"** If you play nicely, I'll let you live a bit longer."

He knelt down next to Hermione. She shuddered at the leering look he gave her.

He ran a finger along her cheek, and raked his eyes over her body.

She wanted to scream, to call for help, but her voice was frozen, trapped inside her throat.

Rookwood ran his hand along her thigh.

Hermione tensed and Rookwood smiled at her with satisfaction.

He moved his hand higher, and something inside Hermione snapped. She gave a cry of fury and fought to push him away. She tried to claw his eyes out.

"Miserable witch," he snarled. He struck her face with the back of his hand.

The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth.

In one swift motion, Rookwood ripped her blouse open. "I've spared your life, now it's time to show your gratitude."

She was seized with terror. _This wasn't happening…_

Hermione fought against him but he pinned her wrists down. She twisted left and right, turning her face away from him. His breath was putrid, his long, dirty hair was falling over his face, and his sharp fingernails cut into her thin wrists.

He laughed, a cold, mirthless laugh.

Hermione's rage spiraled out of control. She tried to focus her magic once more, if she channeled it, maybe—

Rookwood was ripped away from her and he went flying across the room. There were scratch marks on her wrists. Little beads of blood started to form and trickle down her arm.

Someone had charged at him…a man…and now the two were wrestling on the ground. She saw a flash of blond hair and recognized Malfoy.

She searched for her wand in the cracks of the floor, hoping Rookwood had dropped it in the struggle….

"Unhand me!" Rookwood shouted, trying to see his attacker. He gripped Malfoy's shoulders and his eyes narrowed into slits. "What do you think you're doing, boy?"

"The Dark Lord wants her alive," Malfoy hissed in a low whisper, trying to contain his rage.

Rookwood laughed. "She'll still be alive when I'm done with her. You'll have to wait your turn if you want a go."

"YOU WON'T TOUCH HER!" Malfoy bellowed.

Rookwood looked at him as if he were a worm at the end of a hook.

"The Dark Lord sent your mother prisoner, didn't he Draco? To an old friend who _longed_ to see her." He grinned maliciously. "I hear Edevane's had his first taste of her."

"CRUCIO!" Malfoy shouted.

Rookwood writhed in agony. His head knocked back onto the stone floor. His boots clattered noisily, and his teeth clenched as the spell coursed through his body.

Malfoy was shaking, he itched to beat Rookwood to a pulp….

"Draco, leave him!" Hermione cried, calling him back to his senses. "We have to get out of here!"

Malfoy aimed his wand at Rookwood again. "Incarcerous!"

Loops of rope spun around the flailing wizard, binding him.

Malfoy rushed to Hermione's side. "Are you ok?"

She nodded at him, numb with shock. She had found her wand, and she vowed she would never let it out of her sight again. She looked at Rookwood twisting on the floor, unable to process everything that had just happened. Instinct told her they had to keep moving, before someone else discovered them.

Malfoy repaired her blouse with his wand, covering her exposed skin.

"I'm sorry," he said, his face white. "I shouldn't have let you out of my sight. I—"

"It's not your fault," Hermione said quietly.

Draco looked at her like he wanted to say more, and part of her wanted to collapse in his arms and release her anguish, but she couldn't. There were people relying on her, she had a mission to accomplish and that was more important than anything else.

The adrenaline rushing through her veins forced her to keep moving.

"Come on," she said. "We can't stay here."

They tore down the corridor and hurried back to the main staircase.

Members of the Order were fighting a large group of men, but they weren't Death Eaters…they didn't wear masks and the dark mark was missing from their forearms. Hermione noticed that they moved incredibly fast, and they didn't carry wands.

They must be incredibly dangerous if they could perform wandless magic in the midst of battle…

A rogue spell cut Hermione's shoulder and she started to bleed. She gasped in pain.

In that moment a fighter from the Order—Elphias Doge it looked like—shot several stunning spells at the wandless wizards, but they flashed past him, circling him, and she heard a loud CRACK. One of them had snapped his neck.

The man who murdered Elphias smiled, flashing his teeth.

And that's when Hermione realized they weren't wizards…

"Cover your wound," Draco whispered into her ear.

 _Vampires_ , Hermione thought weakly.

She pressed her hand against the wound, hoping they wouldn't smell the blood.

Draco took her arm. They edged away, all the way to the other side of the entrance hall, and when they were at a safe distance they started running.

Malfoy led her towards the grounds. "We need to get out of here. We'll hide in the forbidden forest until the Allies gain more ground, then—"

"No," Hermione said firmly. "I need to get to the dungeons."

Draco looked at her incredulously. "The dungeons…are you mad? We can't stay here. They'll burn this place to the ground."

"Then I'll go alone," she said, moving away from him.

"Granger, wait!" His legs went out from under him.

She turned and caught him just in time. His leg was newly healed and he had abused it, running through the corridors and fighting Rookwood.

"You're in no state to be on your own," she said firmly. "In the Founder's Chambers you told me you trusted me. I'm asking you to trust me now."

Malfoy looked at her suspiciously. _What could she possibly want in the dungeons?_

He knew his fate was tied to hers. If he argued, he could lose her. She could go off on her own, and he was in no fit state to run after her, or worse, duel her.

"I trust you," he said finally.

"Good," was all she said.

Malfoy hung his arm around her neck, no longer able to walk on his own, and they stumbled forward, unsure of what fresh horrors awaited them.

* * *

Minutes later they reached the entrance to the Slytherin common room.

Hermione gazed at the door intently.

Draco watched her face carefully, sure she was on some kind of mission.

"Slithering salamander," she said loudly, reciting the password Dumbledore had given her.

The stone door moved aside to reveal Hagrid and a large group of students standing by the fireplace.

Among them was Weasley's sister, holding an ugly ginger cat in her arms.

Draco barely had a moment to register the sight in front of him, when he was attacked.

"What's _he_ doin' here?" yelled Hagrid furiously, raising his flowery pink umbrella and thrusting it into Draco's face.

Before he could speak, Draco's wand was ripped from his hand. A large beefy arm reached out for him, forcing him into a choke hold.

"Hagrid, no!" Hermione shouted. "He saved my life. I'd be dead if it weren't for him."

Draco's stomach twisted with guilt. He deserved to be crushed to death. Hermione trusted too easily. But her good will was very convenient for him, and so he remained silent.

Hagrid slowly released him, but he still held onto the scruff of his collar.

"You shouldnt'a brough him here, he's not par o' the plan. Dumbledore—"

"Dumbledore's _dead_ , Hagrid."

Hagrid staggered back from her, emotion filling his face, and for a moment he seemed to lose his balance. He hung onto the wall for support.

The students standing by the fireplace began speaking in hushed voices to each other, terror in their eyes.

Tears leaked down Hagrid's cheeks. Hermione stepped closer to him.

"We have to get the younger students out now, before it's too late."

A second year Ravenclaw stepped forward. "We've been held here for _hours_ and this oversized _oaf_ won't tell us anything," he said indignantly. "What in the name of Merlin is going on? And why have our wands been taken from us?!"

Hagrid shot the boy a murderous look, tempted to tell him to show some respect, but he couldn't speak. The shock had stamped out his voice.

For the first time Draco noticed a large sack thrown over Hagrid's shoulder. And then it all made sense. Dumbledore had planned to get the younger students out of the school. But why gather them here?

Hermione rushed to the fireplace. She pressed her hand to the mantel and muttered an incantation. The fireplace shuddered to life and trembled. There was a loud scraping sound. It moved to the side. Draco craned his neck to get a better look and saw a portal open…a portal twisting into the form of a tunnel.

A tunnel that he was sure led to the bottom of the lake.

The students gasped.

This is what Dumbledore had been working on all this time. This is why he had moved the Slytherins out of their dormitories.

"This tunnel leads directly to a ship," said Hermione, turning to face the students. "We have to move fast. We only have until midnight and then the portal closes."

The Ravenclaw shook his head, putting two and two together. "My brother's still in the castle. I'm not going anywhere without him."

Some of his classmates nodded in agreement, thinking of their brothers and sisters.

"What's your name?" Hermione asked, although she had a feeling she already knew.

"Arthur, Arthur Everley."

"Your brother knows you're here. I spoke with him myself."

"You're lying," Arthur spat. "Roman would never—"

"If you resist, we will stun you," Hermione said firmly, facing the crowd. "You're unarmed. I promise, you will be reunited with your families once your safety can be assured."

"That's a lie if I ever heard one!" Arthur said hotly. He turned to face his classmates. "There's more of us than there are of them! We can take them down."

"I'd like ter see yer try!" said Hagrid furiously, finding his voice and stepping forward. His massive figure towered over the young students, causing many of them to tremble.

Hermione recognized Millie, the young girl she'd shared a compartment with on the Hogwarts Express. A river of tears ran down her cheeks.

Other students shifted uncomfortably, terrified by the sounds above them—the blasts and screams that had gone on without end ever since they had entered the dungeons. They looked at the tunnel uneasily, afraid of what awaited them if they went down it…but horrified at the thought of staying inside the castle.

Some of the Slytherins, however, looked like they might take Arthur up on his offer.

"You'll only waste precious time," Hermione told them firmly, seeing that they were eyeing her wand. "Like I said, this portal closes at midnight, and then we'll be trapped. And I can't guarantee your safety if Voldemort wins the battle."

They all flinched at the mention of the name. Slytherins, Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws alike.

And then, as if on cue, there was a bloodcurdling scream from above. The ceiling trembled.

There were terrible ripping sounds. Something heavy was moving above them, something that wasn't human.

It sounded like something…or _someone_ was being torn apart limb from limb.

"Start queuing up!" Hermione shouted, taking advantage of the silence that had fallen over the room.

She and Hagrid pushed the first set of students forward, then hurried the rest into place.

"Someone will be waiting for you on the other side of the tunnel," Hermione instructed, dragging a small Gryffindor boy forward. "You'll be going down in pairs."

Hermione walked to the front of the queue. She motioned two Hufflepuffs forward, and led them to the opening in the fireplace.

She nodded at them. "Off you go."

The two Hufflepuffs looked at each other uneasily. The tunnel seemed to be made up of water, and it was twisting and spinning at high velocity.

Hermione could hear the cogs turning in their heads.

It wasn't too difficult to imagine what they were thinking: _What if they fell through it? What if it didn't hold their weight?_

The Hufflepuffs took a deep breath and sat at the edge of the tunnel. Hermione knelt beside them.

"Ready?"

They looked at Hermione as if their heads were on the chopping block, as if she was their executioner.

They nodded weakly.

Hermione gave them a push and they shot down the tunnel, screaming at the top of their lungs.

They disappeared from sight.

"Next!" Hermione urged.

She and Malfoy watched pair after pair go down, some protesting along the way, others numb with shock at everything that was transpiring.

At Hermione's insistence, Hagrid returned Malfoy's wand, but she knew if he had it his way, he'd have gladly snapped it in half.

Ginny tried to calm a panicked Ravenclaw girl with Crookshanks, telling her she could hold him on her way down the tunnel.

Two Slytherins walked past Hermione and Draco, waiting their turn in front of the fireplace.

"You shouldn't take them—the Slytherins," Draco whispered into Hermione's ear. "Most of their parents are fighting alongside Voldemort. They'll hunt you down."

"Slytherins or not, they're underage and I won't leave them behind," Hermione said firmly. She turned to face him. "And I won't leave you behind either…you saved me—from Rookwood."

_Is that why she was helping him? Because she felt like she owed him? If she only knew…_

"You saved me back in the Founders Chambers," he said, testing her resolve. "We're already even. No need to take me with you."

"Malfoy, don't be stupid—"

"I'll only put you at risk," he said. "I'll take my chances here. The allies might still overpower Voldemort's forces."

He waited with bated breath, hoping he hadn't done himself in. What if Granger _preferred_ to leave him behind?

"I didn't just risk my life," Hermione said, her voice rising, "so that you could throw it all away."

There was fire in her eyes. She cared so much to do the _right_ thing. And something inside Draco snapped. She needed to learn that not _everyone_ could be trusted, not even _him._

He gave her a haughty look, seeing how far he could push before she reacted. "I didn't ask you to save me."

She reeled back from him as if he had slapped her.

"No Pansy did that," she spat. "And I was a fool for listening to her. Do what you want, but your mother—Rookwood said she's been taken prisoner. Even if you survive tonight, you'll be on your own, in hiding. How do you expect to save her then? You need a plan, surely you have friends abroad that can help you."

It was the mention of his mother that dragged Draco back to his senses. He needed to find Potter and save his mother. Hermione was collateral damage. He wasn't allowed to care for her.

Draco's guilt increased tenfold.

Hermione and Hagrid queued up the remaining students.

Draco could feel Ginny's eyes on him, watching him. She hadn't lifted her gaze from him ever since he had entered the common room. Her eyes were fixed on his dark mark. He shifted uncomfortably, turning away from her.

"I don't want to go down there," Dennis Creevey was saying. "I want Colin. He'll be looking for me…he'll wonder where I've gone."

"We'll go down together…once the rest have gone," Hermione said to Dennis. "I'll take you myself, I promise."

Hagrid approached Hermione and handed her the sack full of wands. "They can have them back, once you're safely out."

Hermione nodded at him, her voice trembling. "Thanks, Hagrid…for everything."

He pulled her into a bone-cracking hug, and her feet lifted several inches off the ground.

Hermione handed the sac of wands to Ginny. "Keep these safe please. It's very important."

Ginny nodded and stuffed the sac into her robes, then she walked away from Hermione, visibly upset about something.

"I'm not going," the Slytherin boy said flatly, the last remaining student apart from Ginny and Dennis.

Hermione turned to Draco. "Will you talk to him, please?"

Draco nodded and Hermione hurried after Ginny, sensing something was wrong with her.

"Edward, isn't it," asked Malfoy, bending down until he was eye level with the boy. He leaned forward to whisper into his ear. "Your parents haven't kept the Dark Lord very happy, now have they? How do you think he's going to convince them to do _better_? You won't be returning home tonight, not if Voldemort sees you, you can count on that. At least not until your parents have proven themselves…."

"Is that a threat?" asked Edward shrewdly. His small chest puffed up indignantly. He looked at Draco's dark mark. "You're one to talk about pleasing the Dark Lord. Trying to run away from your post in the middle of battle?"

"That's none of your business," Draco snapped.

He pushed him towards the portal, but Edward shrugged him off.

Draco turned to Hermione for help, but she was speaking with Weasley's sister.

"You're separating families," said Ginny stiffly. "This isn't right."

Hermione shook her head. "Ginny, we don't have time to argue—"

"You know what you're doing, don't you? You're leaving our friends behind to die. And of all people…you're saving _him_?"

She turned to look at Malfoy with disgust.

"Ginny if we stay, and the allies lose…a quick death is the best we can hope for. But if we're taken prisoner—the things they'd do to us—you can't even begin to imagine. You're too young."

"I'm not an idiot! I know what would happen to us! But can you really live knowing—"

"This is bigger than us, Ginny. I have a mission, to help Harry."

Draco's neck almost cracked with how quickly he turned to look at them. _So Granger did have a mission beyond getting the students out of school. And it involved Harry…_

"Why do we get to decide who lives and dies?" Ginny shouted. "I'm not a first or second year. I'm in third year Hermione. Why do I get to leave? Why should we let Neville, Seamus, Parvati or any of them die? I won't do it—"

Hermione fought the strong urge to shake her senseless. "You barely made it down the staircases on your own. You think you stand a chance with the Death Eaters, with Voldemort?! Don't be ridiculous! I promised Ron that I'd get you out of here and that's what I'm going to do."

Draco looked at the portal uneasily, it was getting smaller.

Hermione caught his eye and in that moment she knew he understood.

He took a step towards them.

"Ginny we don't have time for this! Go to the fireplace!"

"You can't make me!"

"You're being unreasonable!"

Ginny didn't notice Malfoy edging closer to her. He grabbed hold of her waist and spun her into his chest.

"Let me g—"

He clamped his hand over her mouth.

"We have to go now, it's closing," Malfoy shouted to Hermione, glancing at the portal.

Ginny was kicking and screaming in his arms.

"You go first," said Hermione. "I'll follow."

He lifted Ginny up, and flung himself towards the portal.

They disappeared.

Hermione rushed to Dennis and Edward. She took hold of each of their hands.

She walked to the portal then stopped, turning back to look at Hagrid one last time.

"Go now," he said gruffly, waving her forward. "There's no more time."

"What are you lot doing?!" said a third voice.

Hermione's blood ran cold.

Millicent Bulstrode had stumbled into the room, and her eyes widened when she saw the fireplace.

"Go now!" yelled Hagrid.

"They're trying to get away!" Millicent cried. She stepped back into the hallway, shouting for reinforcements.

Hermione heard the sounds of footsteps.

Whether more Slytherins, or Death Eaters, she did not know.

Edward stomped on her foot. She cried out in pain and he wrenched free from her grasp.

He rushed towards Millicent, screaming his head off. "Granger made all the first and second years go down that tunnel!"

"I'll hold them off Hermione!" shouted Hagrid, moving in front of her. "Now go! Go!"

Dennis was crying. Hermione reached down and lifted the young boy onto her back.

The footsteps were getting louder.

"GO!" yelled Hagrid.

Hermione rushed towards the portal.

The last thing she saw before she went down the tunnel was Hagrid fighting off a mass of hooded figures. There was a flash of light and the fireplace moved back into place behind her and the portal closed shut.

And then they fell.

It was like falling down a massive slide. They were going fast, far too fast. Dennis was screaming in her ear. Cold air was blasting into her face, making her eyes water. The tunnel seemed to go on forever, dropping them deeper and deeper into the lake.

And then she saw movement at the bottom.

She spotted Ginny and Malfoy.

"Move out of the way!" Hermione screamed.

But it was too late. She braced herself and the four of them crashed into each other, flying in all directions until they were a tangle of limbs.

She cried out in pain as Ginny's elbow dug into her stomach and Draco landed on top of her.

Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, they had narrowly escaped but Millicent had seen them. W _hat would happen to Hagrid? Would the Death Eaters spare his life or would he die fighting? She couldn't bare to think—_

Malfoy touched her face, looking at her with concern. "Are you ok?"

"I—" she said weakly.

She looked to her left, Dennis had landed a few feet away from them.

"What happened?" Draco asked her. Where's Edward?"

Hermione grimaced. "Millicent and the Death Eaters saw us. He ran away with them."

Draco paled. _If they told Voldemort…there was no way he was going to let the children of Death Eaters escape so easily. They could be used as bargaining chips by the Order, derail his followers and endanger his plans._

Draco spoke again. "Sure you're ok?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, it's just—I—I can't breathe."

"Oh, right. Sorry." Draco lifted himself up, then offered her his hand, helping her stand.

"It's almost midnight," Hermione reminded him. "We need to hurry."

Dennis Creevey was trembling in fright, unable to walk on his own. She lifted him onto her back and motioned for Ginny and Malfoy to follow her.

The tunnel illuminated their path, leading them deeper into the lake.

Hermione couldn't see the ship, but she hoped they weren't far. She didn't like it down here. She could make out the outlines of figures swimming across the top of the tunnel, and she wondered if they were the merpeople Harry had told her about. A shiver ran down her spine, and she looked away, fixing her gaze straight ahead instead.

They walked a few more minutes then stopped. There was a loud rushing sound. The walls of the tunnel trembled.

Dennis circled his arms tighter around her neck.

Hermione felt panic rise in her chest. "It's after midnight," she said.

The tunnel was dismantling, and walls of water were crashing down on either side of them.

"Run! I need you to run!" yelled Hermione.

They raced forward, but they didn't get far. They were buffeted by gallons of water. Hermione gasped, dragging in her last breath of air. She and the others lost their footing and slipped. The water crashed over their heads, and they were completely submerged.

Dennis had a vice-like grip on Hermione's neck. She gagged, swallowing a mouthful of water. She choked on it, and reached up, trying to pry his fingers off.

But it was no use, he was clinging on to her for dear life, overcome with panic.

Hermione tried to grab her wand, but Dennis' legs were clamped to her side. The wand was jammed in her jeans pocket and she couldn't reach it.

Her ears popped as they plunged deeper into the lake, and the salt water stung her eyes. Instinct told her to kick to the surface, to forget the ship.

She tried to reach up with her arms, to kick her legs furiously but she made little progress.

She twisted left and right, trying to shake Dennis off. He'd kill them both if he didn't let go.

She gagged again and swallowed more water. The salt burned her throat, her lungs were on fire.

She tried hitting the boy's arms with her fists, but that only increased his panic.

The pressure in her lungs was building without end. Her head was spinning from the lack of oxygen. She thrashed wildly. Her vision started to spot…

_She had to find Harry and help him…she needed to know where Ron had gone…she couldn't die here…_

She grew dizzier and her vision narrowed into a long tunnel. Her mind started to clear, and she felt a sudden weightlessness, almost like she was drifting away…out of her body…but where she was going…she did not know…

Then something yanked on her arm. She could do nothing to fight it. There was a flash of light and Malfoy's face loomed before hers, but his features looked oddly wide and stretched. He was shouting at her, but he sounded muted, as if he was miles away.

Then he aimed his wand at her face, and the water trembled in waves in front of her. Something was forming around her head, something that looked much like an orb. Suddenly, she felt something cold assault her senses—a rush of air. Then the orb solidified and she felt the water drain out of it. Her lungs dragged in air, but every breath hurt. It was like someone was stabbing her repeatedly with a pointed knife.

Draco had performed a charm of some sort. He aimed his wand at Creevey next and in a matter of seconds he was able to breathe too. His hold on Hermione's neck slackened. And then she remembered Fleur and Cedric had performed this same spell during the Triwizard Tournament.

Malfoy tugged at Hermione's arm, beckoning her to follow him. She caught sight of Ginny floating next to him, her eyes wide with fear.

Malfoy pointed down. There, at the very bottom of the lake a single green light shone, and she saw the portholes of a ship.

Draco and Ginny swam towards it, beckoning her to follow.

Hermione took a few steadying breaths, her shoulders aching with the weight of Dennis' body. Then she plunged down and began swimming towards the ship. It took every ounce of strength she could muster. Her legs were seizing…her head still spinning.

Out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw things moving, creatures swimming under and above her, but she didn't look at them. She kept her gaze fixed on the ship.

As they got closer, she saw the ship was surrounded by a magical barrier that prevented the water from flooding in.

It too was in the shape of an orb and glowed emerald green.

 _Would they be able to swim through it?_ she wondered.

Draco pointed at the deck of the ship. And she understood. They needed to get as close as possible. If they swam through the barrier and fell from too high they could injure themselves.

They swam a few more feet, then stopped. Hermione reached out to touch the orb.

It felt gelatinous and thick.

She tried pushing her hand through it, but to no avail.

She squinted, trying to see better, and could vaguely make out the figure of a man standing on the deck of the ship. He raised his wand high and aimed it directly at them.

Hermione swallowed. _Was he going to curse them?_

She waited, her stomach twisting into knots, and after a few moments the orb glowed a deep purple.

Hermione extended her arm again, and her hand sank right through the barrier. She felt no water on the other side, only air.

Relief swept through her. He was going to let them in.

She turned to look at Malfoy. He linked his right arms through hers, and his left through Ginny's. Dennis was still hanging onto her neck.

Malfoy pointed his wand at the ship. "Descendio!" he mouthed.

The four of them shot down, through the barrier and into thin air…falling, falling, until they landed with a smack on the deck of the ship.

Hermione cried out in agony as her body made contact with the hard surface. Creevey landed next to her with a gasp, and Ginny and Draco rolled over sideways.

"That's thee last of them," said a voice in a thick Bulgarian accent. "Avay now, there's no more time."

She looked up and saw a tall man dressed in a heavy coat…the one who had cast the spell.

He looked down at her.

"Velcome aboard the Dragomir Ms. Granger."

Members of the crew darted around her.

Malfoy lay face-down on the deck, his breathing ragged. Hermione looked around them uncertainly.

The ship trembled to life and the magical barrier above them glowed emerald once more.

They were preparing to leave.

The sails unfurled from the mast, the anchor was lifted…

But something was wrong, something was _very_ wrong.

 _They were going up_ , Hermione realized in horror.

They were going up towards the surface instead of moving forward.

The crew members were shouting in Bulgarian. The ship swayed violently and she and Draco slid back, slamming into Ginny and Dennis.

 _Millicent and the Death Eaters_ , Hermione thought. They had told Voldemort where they were.

"Hang onto something!" Draco shouted.

The ship was rocking forward and back, trying to fight the invisible pull that was yanking it up, higher and higher towards the surface of the lake.

They started spinning and Hermione shut her eyes. She was certain she was going to be sick. Draco edged closer to her and grabbed hold of her hand.

He was shouting something, but Hermione couldn't hear him. His voice was drowned out by the commotion that surrounded them.

The crew was yelling and running, the Captain was shouting orders from the helm. Hermione opened her eyes and her heart seized. They were breaking through the surface of the lake.

They shot up, and for the briefest of moments Hermione saw the flames, the castle burning in the distance, the screams.

And then the Death Eaters were upon them, streaking towards them on broomsticks. They fired curses without end, trying to break through the magical barrier. Voldemort himself was at the center of the fray, screaming with fury, his snake-like face contorted with rage as the spells rebounded and missed their targets.

Hermione shut her eyes. If they were captured it was all over. The muggleborn students on board would be killed. And she—she'd never make it to Harry.

Voldemort cast another volley of curses, hitting them with full force.

Cracks like veins started to stretch across the top of the orb.

The ship's crew aimed their wands up, trying to repair the damage.

But in a matter of moments Voldemort hit them again, and the impact was harder this time, threatening to crack the barrier completely.

Hermione was certain he was going to strike a third time, when she saw flashes of blue and white. The Allies were upon them. Distracted, the Death Eaters fought to defend themselves.

Aksel Agarby struck Voldemort with a powerful curse, and he was blown backwards, momentarily distracted.

She heard the captain shouting again from the helm of the ship.

The lake seemed to be spinning beneath them…the ship swayed violently…and they dropped a few feet below the surface of the lake.

Draco tightened his hold on her hand. She looked into his grey eyes, unable to form words.

Ginny and Dennis were screaming behind her.

Another forceful jerk and they plunged back down, sucked into a whirlpool, their future as murky as the water that surrounded them.

And Hermione knew….she knew it was only the beginning.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Boys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful reviews on the last chapter! I enjoy hearing from each and every one of you. So excited you're enjoying the story :)

**2 Days Later**

**The Forest of Dean**

"Move over will you."

"Careful…"

"You're stepping on me."

"Will you just turn it on?"

"Lumos."

The light lit up the tent.

Fred Weasley set down a small radio. He fiddled with the dial, trying to change the station.

Next to him, George ducked his head out of the tent flap, checking to see if they'd been followed.

In a corner of the tent lay an immobile Ron. There were bandages around his head, and claw marks all over his arms and neck.

Fred breathed in deeply. "He's looking worse. The werewolves almost finished him. We'll have to take him to Lupin and Tonks before morning."

George performed a muffliato charm, then zipped up the tent. "Let's hear it then."

Fred switched the radio on. There was the sound of static, then a crackle.

A deep, booming voice filled the tent.

"…the Battle of Hogwarts left hundreds dead, and several more wounded. Aksel Agarby, head of the Magical Alliance, led an army of thousands against You-Know-Who…"

Fred and George looked at each other anxiously, preparing for the worst.

"While the army managed to subdue the Death Eaters, the Magical Alliance failed to defeat You-Know-Who's forces completely."

The announcer cleared his throat, then went on:

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has taken possession of Scotland and Northern Ireland. Inside sources report that countless muggleborns were taken prisoner. Many were sent to the Keil Caves, forced to work against their will, manufacturing weapons for You-Know-Who's army. It is rumored that other prisoners were sold to pureblood families."

"While the Magical Alliance hoped to gain ground, they temporarily retreated to Wales to recover their forces. As for the Order, a quarter of their members were captured and sent to Azkaban, while others were swiftly executed."

The announcer paused, taking a deep breath before continuing.

"And what of Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived? Many members of the wizarding community believe young Potter fled the country last summer. Yet, others are convinced he returned to Britain in disguise and fought alongside the Magical Alliance. Several eyewitnesses claim that he was present at the Battle of Hogwarts. Regardless, Potter seems to have become a ghost, a legend…as ethereal as the wind. In need of a true leader, the wizarding community is failing to cope with the loss of Albus Dumbledore…"

A vein in Fred's temple jumped.

"Many who survived the Battle of Hogwarts left the castle grounds and apparated in London, seeking aid at St. Mungos. Shortly after their arrival, You-Know-Who blocked apparition between Scotland, England and Wales, thus isolating the regions. And the dark wizard's obscurement charm remains, clouding all of Britain with a grey-black substance muggle reporters refer to as "the mist."

St. Mungos is overwhelmed with the injured. Only those who stand a chance of survival are allowed inside, while the rest are left to die at the healing center's front steps. Makeshift healing stations have sprung up around the country, but many fear it won't be enough to save the wounded.

With the ministry gone, there is no longer a squad of obliviators to modify the minds of muggles. Mass hysteria has gripped the non-magical population. Countless muggles have witnessed duels between wizards, or suffered attacks from the Death Eaters themselves. Dozens more have seen the effects of powerful magic.

The muggles are staying quiet no longer. They are retaliating. Just yesterday a muggle man fired a weapon at a witch when the latter was trying to levitate him out of harm's way.

Apparently, a group of vampires were poised to attack the unsuspecting man.

Panicked muggles have killed both solitary Death Eaters and innocent wizards. Some have even killed muggles they mistakenly believed to be wizards.

We warn you not to travel the streets alone at night.

Concerns of civil unrest plague the muggle Prime Minister, and many fear it won't be long until the streets are patrolled by muggle tanks and Her Majesty's Armed Forces.

This does not seem to concern You-Know-Who.

The dark wizard is hell-bent on defeating the forces of the Magical Alliance and reinstating wizard-kind without regard for the International Statute of Secrecy. He has enlisted the help of Romanian and Albanian vampires who have killed indiscriminately…"

Fred turned the radio dial again. They landed on a French muggle news station.

"Et maintenant pour le rapport de ce soir…"

George tapped the radio with his wand, and muttered an incantation that translated the words to English.

"And in tonight's evening news…

The mist covering Great Britain has provoked mass hallucinations within its population. Citizens are claiming to see wizards and witches, and all sorts of mythical creatures. Just last week a man shot his 80 year old neighbor claiming she was trying to levitate him against his will. Another swore he saw a dragon flying over the night sky."

The reporter laughed, and seemed to address someone sitting beside him.

"It won't be long before the burnings and witch trials start eh Alexandre?"

Laughter again. Then he cleared his throat, resuming a more serious tone.

"French and Swiss scientists are studying the mist, determined to decipher its mysterious properties. And the French navy is sailing around the outskirts of Britain, in continuous patrol of its borders.

But no one is willing to send forces inside the country.

Many cities are in ruins. And, no longer thought to be a weather anomaly, it is widely believed that a nuclear bomb went off in Great Britain.

One Swiss scientist said, "Until we can be certain of its effects, we cannot send anyone through the mist."

Some believe it is a British government experiment gone wrong, endangering Europe as a whole.

The Prime Minister of Great Britain expressed his outrage yesterday in a press interview, calling these accusations outlandish.

"I am in shock that our neighbors prefer to turn a blind eye to the situation. They fail to see that this matter concerns all of us. This is a humanitarian crisis, and we cannot be left to die. Something must be done."

Fred switched the dial back to the wizarding station.

"…but there is a glimmer of hope. Harry Potter's close friend, Hermione Granger, proclaimed Greatest Witch of her Age, evacuated a large group of students from Hogwarts school and fled the country. Some claim they hid in the forbidden forest, then commandeered a dragon, others insist they left on board a ship. Each story is more incredible than the next. But whatever their means of escape it appears they left the country unharmed. Their whereabouts, however, remain a mystery…"

"Fred!"

"What?"

"It's Ron, he's waking up!"

Fred and George ran to the opposite end of the tent.

"Where are we?" asked Ron feebly, pushing himself up on his elbows.

"You've woken up just in time for the news," said George excitedly. "Hermione's alive. And that means Ginny is too."

Ron lay back, his vision fogging over. He started coughing up blood.

"We have to take him to Lupin _now_ ," said Fred. "We can't wait until morning."

"That won't be necessary," said a voice.

Fred and George froze.

They heard the sound of footsteps and snapping twigs.

Suddenly, the entrance to the tent was ripped open by a sharp-pointed dagger.

Bellatrix Lestrange stared at them through heavy-lidded eyes, a merciless smile stretched across her gaunt face.

They had been discovered.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was a short chapter, but the next one will be posted this Tuesday, 10/27. It will be nice and lengthy, and we'll be reunited with Draco & Hermione. See you then!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoy this new chapter!

**ABOARD THE DRAGOMIR**

Hermione heard the muted rumble of the ocean, the creaking of wood, and the gentle hum of magic that powered the Dragomir forward. She opened her eyes. There was a red canopy above her. She drew back the curtains, and looked around. She blinked suddenly, her face illuminated by a dancing blue light...the water reflected from the porthole of her cabin.

She guessed they were several feet below sea level.

She wondered how many days they had left before they made it to the French coast of Étretat.

Hermione looked down at her bed. It was intricately carved and made of a fine polished mahogany. Across from the bed was a desk, and a velvet chair. There was a symbol of a red dragon on the back of the chair, set against gold cloth, and the words Dragomir were emblazoned on the top.

Gold brackets hung on the paneled walls, holding long, thin tapers…the flames were burning low. She had no idea when they had last been lit.

Just above the desk was a gilded mirror.

Hermione's reflection stared back at her…pale and wild-haired. She looked down at her arms. Her cuts had been healed. It felt like she had been asleep for days. But even so, her head throbbed and it hurt to move.

She vaguely remembered someone pulling her from the deck…but after that everything had gone black.

Hermione scratched at her collar. She was dressed in a white nightgown, but she didn't remember putting it on.

_And where was her wand?_

Hermione swung her legs over the edge of the bed and forced herself up.

She grasped onto the bedpost to steady herself, her legs shaking slightly.

She searched frantically for her wand, hoping it hadn't been stolen or lost.

_What if she'd dropped it in the lake?_

Minutes later, her heart quieted when she saw it lying on a nightstand in the far corner of the room.

She searched the cabin for her clothes and found them folded on top of a heavy wooden chest. But there was something sticking out of her folded trousers.

Hermione pulled out a wet, soggy letter and was suddenly hit by a vivid memory of Fawkes.

He had dropped the letter into her lap in the middle of the battle.

She turned it over and found Dumbledore's seal.

Hermione climbed back into bed, the letter in hand.

"Lumos," she whispered.

She tore open the seal. She expected the ink to have run, the pages to be ruined by her swim in the lake, but the writing remained intact.

 _Impermeable ink_ , she guessed.

Dumbledore had written the letter in code. Her heart quickened, maybe he had seen fit to reveal more of his plans before he died.

Her eyes scanned the contents, but she was soon disappointed.

There was no lengthy message, no final words of advice or even a goodbye.

Just an address and a date.

Rue Duquesnoy 5, 1000 Bruxelles

_September 3rd_

There was an illustration of two doves at the bottom of the address.

It took her a few minutes before she worked out the meaning.

 _Her parents. He had moved her parents two days after she'd returned to Hogwarts. They were safe…_ in Brussels apparently.

She clutched the letter to her chest. At least they were out of harm's way. But resentment slowly began to build inside of her. Dumbledore had told her next to nothing about his plans—only that Harry was in Spain, but he hadn't said what he was doing there or how she was supposed to help him.

She heard muted voices in the corridor outside, and wondered where Ginny and Draco were. Maybe she should ask for them? But she wasn't ready to rejoin the world—not yet.

The pain in her head was blinding.

She remembered she'd been hit by something in the Founders Chambers, and that's when her visions had started. Her visions of the past…

But no…it wasn't the blow to her head that had provoked the visions. It was that book…that book that had been walled away. She had touched its pages and the entire room had spun violently.

The book! She had tucked it under her arm on their way out of the Founders Chambers. But then—what had happened to it?!

She didn't remember. With a sinking feeling she realized she must have dropped it. She looked around the cabin. It definitely wasn't here.

Hermione covered her face with her hands. She was sure that book was tied to everything somehow—to Voldemort and his plans. When she touched it—she hadn't hallucinated, those visions were real glimpses into the past, to the times of the Founders.

She remembered the women clad in medieval gowns, running away from the muggles with torches…

Hermione shut her eyes, if she remembered that, she remembered other things. Cho falling, Seamus screaming, Rookwood hovering above her…Dumbledore burning. She shut her mind tight. She was not prepared to relive any of it.

But there was one memory she could not ignore.

Above all, Dumbledore's final words to Voldemort were at the forefront of her mind.

_"Catherine lives and she's closer than you know."_

_Catherine lives._

Who was Catherine? And why had Voldemort reacted with such fury at the mention of her name?

But there had been more than fury in his eyes…there had been pain.

And that Hermione thought, was the most disconcerting thing of all.

She pulled the covers up to her chin, and let the gentle rocking of the ship lull her back to sleep, Dumbledore's letter still clutched in her hand.

***

Hours later there was a sharp knock at her door. Hermione opened her eyes, her whole body tense. She half expected sunlight to shine in from the windows, but then she remembered they were underwater.

She clambered out of bed and grabbed her wand. She opened her door a crack and peered outside.

There was a boy of sixteen standing in the corridor. He was dressed in heavy furs. He had a round face, a double chin, and a tentative smile. His robes were stretched tight over his sizable stomach, the buttons threatening to fly off with every breath he took.

"Yes?" Hermione asked.

"My name is Valko. I am here to escort you. The captain vould like to see you now."

Hermione frowned at him, confused. Then she looked down at her nightdress. "I'm not prepared, I don't have anything to w—"

"In the chest you vill find everything you need. I vill vait outside."

"Wait," Hermione said.

Valko nodded at her. "Yes?"

"How long have we been at sea?"

"Three days."

_She had been asleep for three days?_

Valko spoke again. "Our healer saw to your wounds and gave you a sleeping draft. You screamed in your sleep the first two nights. You ver—most disturbed."

Hermione gave him an odd look, and he explained further.

"I've been guarding your cabin. But you look much better now," he said hastily.

"Were we followed?" Hermione asked. "Is everyone alright? My friends—"

"Ms. Granger, you are safe now and so are your friends. We are here to protect you. Aboard the Dragomir no von can touch you."

Valko shut the cabin door, and Hermione stared dumbfounded at it.

After a few moments she rushed to the wooden chest at the foot of her bed and found a long woolen dress, stockings and a pair of boots. She pulled them on quickly and followed Valko into the corridor.

***

On the outside the Dragomir was enchanted to resemble a wreck. It had a skeletal look, a quarterdeck and forecastle, square rigging and two masts. The dim, misty lights shimmering at its portholes looked like ghostly eyes.

Hermione guessed it was meant to confuse muggle divers in the unfortunate event that they encountered the vessel. But inside it was as magnificent as a palace. The passages were covered in fine paintings, gold leaf decorated the walls, and silk drapes hung across arched windows that looked out into the ocean. Every so often she saw fairy dust, and wood was suddenly polished, the windows sparkled clean. The fairies were too tiny to see, but she knew they were there, taking delight in making the ship glow with magic.

It was the only ship of its kind, a breach of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, but no government had seen fit to call it into question.

 _And thank Merlin for that_ , Hermione thought, as she followed Valko down another passage. _How else would she have gotten the first and second years out of Hogwarts?_

But Hermione stared at the opulence with hollow eyes. She was fully aware that she was aboard a lavishly decorated ship, while her friends were fighting for their lives back home. It didn't seem right or fair.

Hermione made a mental note to ask about the fairies later, wondering if they received the same treatment that the house elves did back home.

Something told her they did.

Hermione huffed indignantly and quickened her pace.

She followed Valko until they came upon a large ornate door.

"Wait here," he said.

Valko went inside. She heard him greet someone, then he conversed with two others.

Hermione strained to hear, but they were speaking in Bulgarian.

She paced in front of the door, feeling uneasy, and just when she was about to knock, Valko reappeared.

"You may enter," he said, holding the door open for her.

She walked into a lavish study that looked out onto the ocean. The captain had his back turned to them, staring out the windows. A beagle pup with bright blue eyes lay at his feet.

"Captain," said Valko tentatively. "Hermione Granger is here to see you."

The captain turned and took off his cap. A wave of long auburn curls fell out of it. Instead of the rugged face Hermione expected, she was met with the opposite: a delicate face with arched eyebrows, a long, pointed nose and full red lips.

Hermione gasped.

The captain was a woman, and much to her surprise she looked no older than twenty-three.

"Hello Ms. Granger. My name is Nikola Rostov. I'm glad to see you. The Order tells me you are a highly skilled witch. Although I'm afraid your judgement leaves much to be desired."

She looked over Hermione's shoulder.

Hermione spun around.

Draco was seated on a wooden chair, ropes tied around his arms. There were two members of the crew standing on either side of him.

Nikola laughed a deep laugh. She was a beautiful woman with refined features, but her voice was not mild or subdued. It projected across the room with a strength and firmness that made everyone stand to attention.

"Miroslav, Krasimir, don't you think Mr. Malfoy has quite a handsome face?" Nikola asked, addressing the crew members. "Why don't we roughen it up a bit. Give it more character?"

She tossed each of them a blade, then sat in a large high backed chair by the window. The bugle pup hurried to her side and sat at her feet. He barked at Draco, his long ears swinging back and forth as he did so.

"Silence Konstantin, my darling," she said, patting his head gently. She waved at Miroslav and Krasimir. "Go on then, carve away."

"No!" Hermione shouted. "You're making a mistake."

"Durmstang's last headmaster, Karkaroff had a _questionable_ reputation, Ms. Granger. You vill understand that we cannot be linked to anyone who sympathizes with the Dark Lord. We must make an example of Mr. Malfoy."

Konstantin barked approvingly, raising a small white paw. His round belly quivered with each bark.

"He's not loyal to Voldemort!" Hermione exclaimed.

"He wears the Dark Mark on his arm. I ask myself, why vould _you_ Ms. Granger, bring a Death Eater on board this ship?"

Hermione's mouth opened and closed, her brain trying to string together a response that would make sense to the Bulgarians.

Nikola stood. Hermione stepped backwards as she inched closer to her. Eventually, she was forced to slump into the chair next to Draco's. Ropes appeared out of thin air and tied around her wrists too.

Hermione realized this is how it would always be. She would always have to explain Draco. No one would ever accept them as they were. A boy and a girl trying to stay alive. He was a Malfoy, a Death Eater, and she was Harry Potter's best friend. A hero and a traitor with an unlikely alliance.

Nikola raised an eyebrow at her. "When we re-surface, all Mr. Malfoy has to do is tap his vand to the Dark Mark and Voldemort will know our exact location. He can attack us before we ever reach shore."

Hermione bristled. "Malfoy had several opportunities to take me prisoner during the Battle of Hogwarts and he did not do so. He saved me, more than once."

Draco cleared his throat calmly, and looked at Nikola lazily, as if his life were not hanging in the balance. "As I told you earlier, _Captain_ , my loyalty is to the Order and the Magical Alliance. Surely you can see that. You must have some semblance of intellect if you were asked to captain a ship so young. But then again, maybe Durmstrang lowered its standards with _you_."

Hermione looked at Draco in disbelief. His arrogance would cost him his life...and her life too if he wasn't careful.

Konstantin barked at him, offended, but Nikola didn't take the bait.

Instead, she reached for a tray sitting on the desk behind her. She handed Draco a glass of wine.

He couldn't see it or smell it, but he was sure it was laced with Veritaserum.

"Let us toast to your grand escape," Nikola said, smiling, reaching for a second glass and lifting it to her lips.

Draco tipped the glass back. He kept his face blank. He did not panic. He swallowed slowly, tasting the wine.

Nikola looked at him with an unwavering stare. Konstantin lay at her feet and cocked his head to one side, staring at Draco curiously. His large eyes sparkled with mischief.

"A bit too sour for my taste," Draco said arrogantly, looking at his glass with distaste. "You see, I'm used to much higher quality."

Nikola ignored him and leaned forward. "Finish it."

It was an order, not a request.

Malfoy drank every last drop of wine, and he smiled into Nikola's face as he did so.

"Is your name Draco Malfoy?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, adopting a flat, emotionless voice.

"And your parents are…?"

"Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy."

Hermione leaned forward, realizing that Nikola had altered his drink.

"Did you run avay from your father's home?"

The potion wanted to force the truth out, it was yanking the words up into his throat and pushing them through his lips. He forced them down, biting hard on his lip.

Immediately, he heard his father's voice in his head.

_Your body will urge you to give the obvious answer, but you must fight the impulse. You must think clearly enough to rephrase the question to yourself. That way you give the inquisitor the answer he or she wants to hear, and it…in some way…will be true._

Draco forced himself to think. Technically, he had run from the house to the charmed car that took him to King's Cross every year, so he could indeed say that he had run away from home. At least, in the literal sense—he had run from the front door to the car—although it was because he was running late, not because he planned to leave home forever. But Nikola didn't need to know that.

"Yes," Draco said, in the same flat, emotionless voice. "I ran away from home."

"Are you loyal to the Dark Lord?"

It took every restraint for Draco to keep his mouth shut. _Was he loyal to the Dark Lord?_ Outwardly, it appeared so. But in truth, he was loyal to his family. Whatever dirty work he did for Voldemort was not of his choosing. He was more a prisoner than a loyal follower.

"No, I am not loyal to the Dark Lord."

Nikola's eyes narrowed as she formed her next question. "And did you, at any time…"

Draco's stomach clenched. He braced himself, preparing for the worst.

"…pass information to your father in the days before the battle?"

The knot in Draco's stomach loosened. She almost had him there. Had she said "weeks" and not "days" he would have been forced to tell her every time he'd sent owls back home.

"No, I didn't."

Nikola eyed him suspiciously, preparing a final question.

"Are you in love with Ms. Granger?"

 _That_ , he was not expecting. Panic rose within him, and he was unable to focus on distancing himself from his emotions. Beads of sweat ran down his forehead. It was as if an invisible anchor was hooked to his mouth, prying it open, forcing out the truth. A reply formed…it was on the verge of falling from his lips—

"That's enough," said Hermione, angrily. She cast a silencing charm on Draco before he could answer.

The words died in his throat.

Nikola laughed. "Aren't you curious, Ms. Granger? Mr. Malfoy may have changed loyalties, but perhaps he is just using you to get to safety? Don't you wish to know?"

Hermione slammed her fist down. "I said, that's enough. Surely, there are more important things for us to discuss than Draco's personal feelings."

"Indeed," said Nikola dryly, looking at Hermione appraisingly.

Hermione glared at her. "How long until we arrive at Étretat?" she asked, steering the conversation away from Draco.

Nikola raised an eyebrow. "We cannot re-surface until Voldemort is engaged in battle once more. There are rumors that the allies vill attack Voldemort's forces again in a week's time. Once he is occupied, he is less likely to find us."

Hermione frowned. "And if he discovers we fled to Étretat, regardless?"

"The danger lies in the journey, Ms. Granger. But once we arrive, we are safe. Étretat is sacred land. Once the students set foot on its soil, they cannot be touched." She looked pointedly at Draco. "The devil may not enter. You von't be able to enter, nor anyone else with that mark."

Nikola waved Valko forward.

"You may remove him now."

"What would you like us to do with him, Captain?"

"He may roam about the ship freely, but vatch him closely, if he steps out of line his wand is mine."

Valko and the other two crew members led Draco out of the study, leaving Hermione alone with Nikola.

"After we deliver the students to Étretat, we can leave your friend, Mr. Malfoy where he likes. Then we vill sail on to Spain to meet Mr. Potter."

 _Yes_ , Hermione thought. It would be best for Draco to go his own way. There was a weight in her chest at the thought of their separation, but she couldn't think about that now, there were other matters to attend to.

Nikola spoke again. "I assume Dumbledore discussed the details of Harry's mission in Spain."

Hermione shook her head. "Dumbledore never told me what Harry was doing there or how I can help him."

"I see, he left that to me then, I'm afraid," Nikola replied. She drained the last of the wine from her glass.

"You _know_?" Hermione asked.

She nodded, and leaned forward. "Have you heard the name Arévalo Ms. Granger?"

Hermione nodded slowly. "They're the oldest vampire family in Spain."

Nikola refilled her wine glass with a tap of her wand and went on.

"Voldemort does not have many vampires in his army. The few that he enlisted are those that ver exiled from their covens or disgraced. No vampire in good standing deigns to help a wizard. We hoped Mr. Potter would change that when it came to the Arévalo coven. No other vampires hold their kind of power. Be assured, Ms. Granger, we cannot win the war without them. The Magical Alliance alone will not be enough."

Hermione frowned. "But vampires have long hated wizards. Voldemort tried to recruit them in the last war, and they refused him."

"Mr. Potter met with the Spanish vampires some time ago. He contacted us at the end of last week. It seemed they were close to reaching some kind of understanding, but then we lost communication."

Hermione gripped the arm of her chair.

"We had an agent in Spain that assisted Mr. Potter—a Mr. Calatrava. Potter was to have a final meeting with the vampires and relay the information to him. But Calatrava never heard from Potter again. He sent owls to the Arévalo's meeting place with letters inquiring after Harry, but he never received a reply. Instead, the vampires drained the owls of blood and delivered them on his doorstep."

Hermione's mouth dropped open in shock. "Are you telling me you don't know where Harry is?"

Nikola shifted uncomfortably, her cool exterior faltering. "At the moment….no."

"What would the Arévalo's want with him? They wouldn't think to—"

Hermione couldn't bring herself to say the words.

Nikola answered for her.

"Vampires vould never turn a wizard. It is not in their interest to make us more powerful. The few times in history it has happened—the product of sordid love affairs—the vampire vas punished most severely by his coven, and the wizard or witch murdered."

Hermione nodded."But they _would_ consider killing Harry or keeping him prisoner for their own gain?"

Nikola nodded, then drained the last of her wine before continuing.

"Before we lost communication, Potter told us the Arévalo's had certain demands. The oldest, Sebastián, wanted to meet with someone before he agreed to an alliance."

"Who?" Hermione asked, curious.

Nikola raised an eyebrow. "He wanted to meet with _you_."

"With _me_?!" Hermione exclaimed. "But why? I've never even been to Spain—"

"We ver hoping you vould be able to tell us."

Hermione shook her head. "I have absolutely no idea."

"Harry vould meet with the Arévalo's in Segovia, in the old Alcazar palace. As far as we know they never took him to their true home."

Hermione's blood ran cold. So she was expected to meet with dangerous and unpredictable vampires, with no guarantee to her safety. And Nikola as well as the Order had no idea where Harry was.

"Sebastián promised you'd remain unharmed, although the word of a vampire—"

"Is not to be trusted," Hermione finished.

"The choice is yours Ms. Granger, you may stay in Étretat where your safety can be assured. Or you can sail on to Spain."

Hermione breathed in deeply. At once she knew she couldn't hide in Étretat with her arms crossed. Not when so many people had died and many more were in peril.

"I'll go," she said. "I'll sail on with you to Spain."

Nikola nodded.

"My advice, Ms. Granger, keep Mr. Malfoy out of your plans. He is handsome and clever, but I knew his father and I doubt his interests are anything but selfish."

Hermione glared at her. "If that's all, I think I'll go."

Nikola nodded. "Goodbye Ms. Granger."

The ropes binding Hermione loosened and fell away.

She rose to leave, but then froze at the door.

"Has the Order obtained any intelligence on the Weasley family? Arthur and Molly Weasley, or their son Ronald?"

Nikola hesitated a moment before answering. "No," she said. "We haff heard nothing."

"Thank you Captain," Hermione replied curtly, then made to exit the study.

There was a loud bark from behind her. Konstantin had gotten to his feet and was staring at her intently.

Nikola smiled. "He likes you, he vishes you to say goodbye before you leave."

Hermione's eyes widened. She approached Konstantin with caution then knelt down to pat his head. He licked her hand vigorously.

"You may look after him today," Nikola said. "A valk around the deck vould do him good, and you're in need of company."

Hermione stared at her with a mixture of amusement and confusion, but she picked up Konstantin and carried him away.

Hermione wanted to dislike Nikola Rostov, but later found that she couldn't. As the day transpired Hermione observed her closely. She admired her strength and character, her unwavering command of the ship and her camaraderie with the crew. She was extremely knowledgeable, and she hardly ever strayed from her convictions.

But there was one matter Nikola was mistaken about, and that was Draco…of that Hermione was sure.

***

Dinner was a quiet affair.

The dining room was as elaborate as the rest of the ship, with a low-hanging chandelier, high-backed chairs and a plush red carpet.

The students ate quietly. The horror of the battle was still fresh in their minds, and most of them felt like they were on borrowed time, not quite believing they'd made it out of Hogwarts alive.

Every so often, sudden movements or loud noises from the crew made them jump.

Hermione was sitting next to Ginny. She didn't speak much and she stared down at the table, looking at it but not really seeing anything.

Moments later, a sprinkle of gold dust fell in front of them and landed on the plates, filling them with food.

 _The fairies again_ , Hermione thought.

There were many Bulgarian specialties including cold Tarator soup made of yogurt, cucumbers, garlic, and olive oil. There were also platters of fish and veal, stuffed peppers and potatoes.

Everyone began eating, and the sound of cutlery filled the room.

Konstantin chased Crookshanks around the table. The two had entered into a duel of sorts the minute Hermione had introduced them.

"I had a dream about Ron," Ginny said suddenly. "But he wasn't right, he wasn't exactly…human."

Hermione looked at her in surprise, her fork suspended in mid-air. She didn't think she'd get a single word out of Ginny tonight.

"What do you mean?" she asked carefully.

"It's hard to describe, but I just knew he wasn't himself."

"Ginny I'm sure it was just a nightmare. We're bound to have them after everything that's happened."

Ginny lifted her spoon, and plunged it into her bowl of Tarator soup. "It didn't feel that way to me. It felt like…a vision."

Hermione's blood chilled. She nodded, but thought it best not to push the subject further.

Ginny drank her soup, making a face at the strange taste.

Hermione looked around the dining room. There was no sign of Draco. She wondered where he'd gone off to. _Surely, Nikola hadn't locked him in his cabin?_

"I'm not that hungry," Ginny abruptly said. "Can we go?"

"At least finish your soup first," Hermione replied, piling veal and potatoes onto her plate. She had no idea when she'd had her last meal, or if she'd been given anything when she was unconscious.

She ate quickly and urged Ginny to do the same. She had to find Draco.

***

Malfoy paced the deck of the ship. It had taken the last of his nerve to keep his head together in front of Nikola Rostov. He was starting to panic, thinking of his mother held captive in Edevane's power. Over time the wizard had become Voldemort's right-hand man and he was a ruthless killer.

How long until his mother cracked under the torture? Draco's blood boiled every time he remembered Rookwood's words: "The Dark Lord sent your mother prisoner, didn't he Draco? To an old friend who _longed_ to see her. I hear Edevane's had his first taste of her."

He didn't think she'd be able to endure that kind of pain.

He closed his eyes, trying to block the thoughts that were surfacing.

He had a vivid memory from his childhood—a memory of the last time his mother was in grave danger.

He was five and they were both walking through the gardens of the manor. He noticed that she was wearing her favorite pale pink shoes, and she stepped carefully, trying not to flatten the flowers around them.

She'd had a terrible fight with his father the night before. She had emerged from his study with a broken wrist and a bruised eye. The elves had taken him to his room, and he wasn't allowed to see her again until the next day.

She asked him to pick a few roses for her, then take them inside the drawing room when he was done.

She left his side and returned to the manor.

Draco took his time to search for the prettiest roses he could find. He knew his mum was low in spirits and he wanted to see her smile again.

An hour later he searched for her in the drawing room, roses in hand, but she wasn't there. He checked the study next but to no avail. He finally went up the long spiral staircase that led to her room, a feeling of foreboding growing inside his chest. He reached the second floor landing and walked to the room at the end of the corridor. He reached up for the handle and opened the door. Draco walked to the center of the room then jumped. Something had brushed his shoulder.

He spun around. His mother's pale pink shoes were dangling in front of his face. He looked up, there was a noose hanging around her neck, and her mouth was open in a silent scream.

She hung from the ceiling, kicking her feet, on the verge of losing consciousness.

He had screamed for Dobby, screamed for Dobby until his voice grew hoarse. The elf appeared inside the room with a pop, freezing with terror at the sight in front of him.

"DOBBY HELP HER! HELP HER!"

With a snap of Dobby's finger, the rope split in half and his mother fell to the ground.

His father and the family healer had been called home immediately.

His mum had nearly lost her life, and it was months before she was herself again.

Draco breathed in deeply. _What if she tried the same thing again? What if in her desperation—_

He snapped back to reality when he heard movement. He looked over his shoulder. Granger was walking towards him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, stiffening, his back suddenly ramrod straight.

"I didn't see you at dinner…" Hermione started. "I—I wanted to make sure you were alright."

Hermione approached Malfoy cautiously.

He looked wrecked. His eyes were suspiciously red and his face was paler than usual.

He laughed bitterly. "I suspect none of us will be _alright_ for a very long time, Granger."

She observed him closely, remembering that his mother was in danger.

"Why did Voldemort take your mother prisoner?" she asked softly. "At Hogwarts I heard Rookwood say she was given to a wizard named Edevane."

Draco's jaw twitched.

 _Because I haven't_ _gotten any information out of you_ , he thought to himself bitterly.

Instead he said, "I suppose it's my punishment, for running away and not fulfilling my duties as a Death Eater."

"Edevane, who is he exactly?" Hermione pressed. "An old enemy of your family's?"

"It's more complicated than that," Draco said.

Hermione looked at him expectantly, waiting to hear more.

Draco sighed. "My mother was betrothed to Edevane in her youth, but the day of their wedding she ran away and eloped with my father. At the time my father wasn't a wealthy wizard, and my grandfather disapproved of him. He had arranged for my mother to marry Edevane instead, but he was twenty years her senior and she hated him. Edevane's been biding his time all these years, waiting for revenge."

Hermione gazed at him fearfully. "You mean—"

"He'll have his way with her, humiliate her—" Draco looked tortured, his fists clenched. "You know what I mean by _humiliate_?"

Hermione's blood chilled, and she was forcibly reminded of Rookwood, the leering look in his eyes and the greedy way he had touched her.

Draco lost control of himself, unable to contain his anger any longer. "I shouldn't have left!" he shouted.

He kicked the railing of the ship and looked around wildly.

His eyes fell on a set of heavy crates lying at the end of the deck.

He decided to unleash his fury on them.

"Draco, no!"

He took out his wand and blasted the crates in front of him, sending some flying into the air then back down again. Bits of wood went flying everywhere.

Hermione yelped as bits of wood nicked her skin.

"Draco stop!"

Malfoy's vision blurred. He was crying in front of Hermione Granger. He was supposed to make her fall in love with him, and instead he was winning her pity. _Pathetic_.

"The crew will lock you away!"

" _What_ do you care?!" he shouted.

She tried to reach for his arm but he threw it off.

"Just go away," he whispered.

He slumped down onto the deck. Hermione knelt beside him.

"I'm sorry," she said, tears falling down her face. "I'm sorry about your mother. It's not right—"

She tried to reach for him again, and this time he let her.

"My father won't save her. His plans with Voldemort are too—"

He had to stop there, if he went on talking, he wouldn't be able to stop. He had to complete his mission. Hermione could never know the truth.

"You could have stayed and fought," Hermione replied. "But then maybe you'd be dead. And how would you help your mother then?"

"There are things worse than death, Granger," Malfoy said, thinking of how eventually he'd have to betray her.

There was a loud sound, and they both looked up.

A large blue whale was swimming above them, and the magical orb that acted as a barrier trembled slightly. They held their breath as it moved past, in awe of its enormous size.

"I wonder where we are?" Hermione said slowly. "Nikola didn't say."

Draco smirked at her and reached inside his robes. He pulled out a looking scope. "I pilfered this from one of the crew. Care to take a look?"

"Will that work down here?" Hermione asked in amazement.

Draco nodded.

They stood and Draco handed the miniature looking scope to Hermione. She looked into the lens, and it was as if someone had strapped a jet-pack to her back. She was zooming up through the water towards the surface of the ocean, then to the sky above. The stars looked beautiful. There was no obscurement charm here.

She felt Draco move behind her, and soon his hands were on her arms guiding her.

She swallowed, her nerves on edge at their sudden closeness.

"Look just over there. You see that constellation?"

Hermione nodded, recognizing Cassiopeia.

"The North Star is on the opposite side."

He moved her to the left. "Just there."

The constellation's seven stars shone brightly, and they were so vivid, Hermione felt she could reach out and touch them.

Draco spoke again. "My guess is we're not far from Étretat. But you heard Nikola, we'll remain hidden until it's safe."

Hermione turned to face Draco. His gray eyes were observing her intently.

"And you Granger?" he asked. "Are you feeling alright?

"What do you mean?" she replied.

"In the battle you were hallucinating. I'm not sure exactly what you saw—"

"I wasn't hallucinating," Hermione said quickly. "When I touched that book—the one one that we found in the Founder's Chambers—I was able to see the past. If I could just see it one more time, maybe I could figure out—"

"I have it," Draco said.

Hermione's mouth fell open in shock. "What?!"

"You dropped the book on the way out of the chambers. I picked it up and hid it in my robes. It's completely drenched now from our swim in the lake, but if you want, I can give it to you."

Hermione nodded eagerly at him. "Yes—I can't believe you have it."

Draco placed his hand on her shoulder. "I'll stop by your cabin later. But right now Granger, I need some time alone."

The pain in his eyes had not receded, it lingered there…threatening to resurface.

Hermione nodded, feeling a little hurt that he didn't want her around, but excited at the prospect of seeing the book again. "I understand. I'll see you later tonight."

***

Hermione hung onto the wall for support as she walked back to her cabin. The floor tilted sideways, and she struggled for balance. She assumed they were caught in turbulent waters. The rush of the ocean was louder than ever, and she began to feel uneasy, wishing they could rise to the surface and see the sky again.

There was a surprise waiting for her when she got back to her cabin.

A silver tray holding a glass of wine and a slice of strawberry cake sat on her desk. _The fairies, no doubt._ She had been in such a rush to leave the dining room, she hadn't bothered with desert.

Hermione ate, then checked in on Ginny. She was fast asleep a few cabins down, Konstantin and Crookshanks curled up at her feet.

Hermione returned to her cabin and waited for Draco. An hour passed and he didn't show. Tired, she kicked off her boots and removed her stockings. She rested her chin on her hand, deciding she'd give him another few minutes.

Two hours later, she nearly fell asleep at her desk. She figured he wasn't coming. She changed into her nightgown and went to bed.

A few minutes later she was about to drift off to sleep, when there was a loud knock at the door. She stumbled towards it, hoping it wasn't Valko announcing some kind emergency.

She threw open the door, rubbing her eyes and yawning. Draco stared back at her, his eyebrows raised.

He looked her up and down, taking in her appearance.

Hermione turned red, she'd forgotten she was in her nightgown and nothing else.

Literally nothing else.

Draco could see every detail of her body through the thin cotton.

She hurried back into the room, and found a sweater in the wooden chest by her bed. She quickly pulled it around herself, avoiding Draco's gaze the whole time.

"I thought you weren't coming," she said over her shoulder.

"Should I go?" he asked.

"No," she said, closing the wooden chest firmly.

"I have the book," he said when she returned to the door.

"Right, come in."

Draco walked into her cabin and sat on the chair in front of her desk.

Hermione sat opposite him on the edge of her bed.

Draco looked at her carefully. His delay had been intentional. He knew tonight he had to seal her trust in him regardless of their past, and he had been preparing himself to do so, trying to sober up from the grief that had weakened him earlier.

He pulled the book from his robes and handed it to her. Its pages were wrinkled, damaged from their near-death experience in the lake.

"At the battle its pages were blank, just like now. After you touched it…you started seeing things—things that weren't there."

"I wasn't hallucinating," said Hermione defensively. "I'm sure of it."

She thought for a moment.

"In the Founder's Chambers there was a test we had to pass before we were let in. There was an inscription written on the entrance: "Only united can the truth be discovered. Three minds alike. Three minds enlightened."

Hermione tapped a finger to her chin, thinking...

"Three minds..." she said. "I suppose it refers to three founders. Maybe Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor? Salazar left the school before the chambers were sealed off. I don't think he took part in the enchantments that were cast."

Draco nodded. "That makes sense. I visited the Founders Chambers in second year with Pansy and Goyle. We were trying to find the Heir of Slytherin. I think we were let in because we weren't looking for this book, or the jewels that were hidden in that pillar. But of course, the secrets weren't revealed to us because our aim was to help Slytherin. We only had his interests in mind and not the interests of the other founders."

Draco paused for a moment, lost in thought. "But when you, Pansy and Everley went it was different. You were all there for selfless reasons. You and Pansy wanted to rescue me, and Everley wanted to find his brother. The secrets were revealed because you didn't want to use them. And the final test. Valuable pieces of silver and jewels fell from the pillar, and you chose a book, the most ordinary of all. That's probably why we made out alive and weren't trapped inside."

 _Except it wasn't an ordinary book_ , Hermione thought. It had let her see into the past.

She changed the subject, sensing Draco wouldn't believe her visions were real no matter how vividly she described them.

"Do you know anyone by the name of Catherine?" she asked. "Someone Voldemort may have known in the past? Dumbledore's last words to him were: 'Catherine lives, and she's closer than you know.' "

Draco shook his head. "No, my father mentioned Voldemort worked in Knockturn Alley after he graduated Hogwarts. Then he disappeared for ten years."

"And at Hogwarts?" Hermione pressed. "Was there a Catherine in Slytherin?"

Draco frowned at her. "You think he was involved with her?"

Hermione nodded. "He had his sights set on climbing. Maybe she was a wealthy witch, a fellow student."

Draco shrugged. "Anyone who was friends with Tom Riddle then, would fiercely deny it after he came to power. They would have destroyed any letters. That was my grandfather's time, not my father's. I never met my grandparents on either side, they died before I was born. But I hear from Theo's grandmum, Tom Riddle had a way of making you feel like you were part of his inner circle...but it was all an illusion." Draco took a breath. "He was friends with everyone…but at the same time, friends with no one. After he graduated, no one heard from him for years. He was like a living ghost."

Hermione shook her head. "Surely Hogwarts had records of his classes, prefect duties, events of the year, photographs."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "I hear the headmasters did away with photographs and such things over time. They only kept the most basic information—that he was a brilliant student while he was at school, never a toe out of line. Theo's grandmum mentioned he attended a few dances, but according to her, he never had a serious relationship with any girl."

Hermione chewed her lip. "There has to be a way to find out more about his days at Hogwarts. Or information on his first months back in Britain."

Draco shook his head. "When Voldemort came back to Britain he was completely transformed. At first people didn't realize he and Tom Riddle were the same person. The only people he contacted became Death Eaters and they weren't going to talk. Many of the original Death Eaters died in the first war. The papers called them the Original Seven, his friends from school. I suspect he killed most of them. They didn't die at the hands of the Order like he led his followers to believe. Voldemort didn't want anyone to know about his past, and they were a liability."

Hermione wondered if Draco's grandfather had been one of the original seven. She thought it best not to ask.

They were both silent for a few moments, realizing they had reached a dead end.

Draco opened his mouth, then closed it again.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

 _It was now or never_ , he thought.

"Granger, the only way to save my mother is to defeat Voldemort. I want to help you. I want to help Potter. I'm willing to do whatever it takes."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. "What do you mean?"

"You, Potter and Weasley are always at the forefront of everything. I know Dumbledore entrusted you with something. You don't have to tell me what it is, but if there's any way I can help, I need to, for my mother. Do you understand?"

Hermione nodded slowly.

It looked like Draco wanted to say something more, but he was having trouble working up the nerve.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Why did you stop me from answering earlier?"

"Answering what?" Hermione asked.

"Nikola's question. When she asked how I felt about you."

Malfoy took her hand in his, and ran his thumb along her palm.

"Draco I—"

"Shh," he said, leaning forward.

"I think it's best if we keep our heads clear," Hermione said quickly. "She pulled her hand away. "We don't need to complicate things between us, not with everything that's going on."

If he wasn't working for Voldemort he might have listened to her—left her room, tried to forget her. But his life wasn't his own anymore. He couldn't do what was right or sensible. He had to spin her into his web, seduce her, until she gave in.

 _Was she a virgin?_ It didn't seem fair that her first time would be with someone like him, a liar trying to use and manipulate her. But he supposed it didn't matter. He pushed his guilty feelings down. He'd have to do it either way.

Hermione stood and Draco did the same.

"Thank you for bringing the book," she said.

"That's not why I came," Draco said. "And you _know_ it."

Hermione swallowed, her heart thundering in her chest. She hated feeling this way. Nervous, afraid and uneasy whenever he looked at her with that intensity. And that's what Draco did to her—he made her lose control and question herself.

"You should go," she insisted.

The ship rocked dangerously and Draco crashed forward into her. The lights from the candlesticks flickered and she gripped onto his arms to keep from falling.

"I—I'm sorry," she said.

Draco snaked his arm around her waist, pressing her chest against his. He looked down at her lips.

"Well, goodnight then," he said.

"Goodnight," she whispered, but it sounded more like a question.

He tore himself away from her. He would not be the one to beg. If not tonight it would be another night. There was fire in her eyes. Of that he was sure.

Draco turned to go, almost at the cabin door when she spoke again.

"I don't want you to leave," she said, her voice trembling.

He inhaled sharply.

_At last, the words he wanted to hear._

He was at Hermione's side again in two quick strides.

Without asking for permission he moved her in front of the candlelight, and tugged at her sweater until it slipped off, falling at her feet.

He admired the outline of her body, the way the nightgown fell against her curves.

She was perfect.

The ship rocked again and they fell into each other, landing on the bed behind them.

Hermione's eyes widened. Draco's hands were everywhere, his breathing frenzied.

She wrapped her arms around his neck. There was a fire in her belly. She knew she shouldn't be doing this...but she didn't care.

The weight of Draco on top of her, his silky hair through her fingers, the buttons of his trousers digging into her skin, all made her tremble with a need for more.

She didn't know how far she wanted to go, all she knew was that she wanted Draco touching her, kissing her…

Impatiently, she pulled his shirt over his head.

She marveled at the broadness of his shoulders. She ran her hands down his back, feeling the scars from Romena's lashings. She remembered Pansy had touched them, and she became angry, angry that he'd been with any girl before her.

She bit down on his lip, and Draco swore loudly.

He hitched her leg and wrapped it around his waist. His tongue pressed against hers, his mouth devouring her, then he took her hands and pinned them above her head.

Hermione didn't know if she was ready for this...fear mixed with excitement coursed through her body, clouding her thoughts...

Draco tilted Hermione's chin up. She looked into his eyes. There was something in those grey eyes other than lust, something that tortured him…

Hermione became very still, afraid of what he'd say. Draco kissed her eyelids gently.

"One day Granger…you'll tell me three little words."

Her heart seemed to freeze in her chest. How could he possibly expect—she could never say it. And even if she did, they could never be together—not in the way he wanted. 

On instinct, she arched her back, pressing her chest to his again. She ran her hands down his stomach, trying to distract him.

"Your dreaming, Malfoy," she challenged, running her tongue along his ear.

She didn't recognize herself as she moved underneath him, pushing her hips up to meet his, teasing him.

Draco trembled, losing control. He pressed his body hard against Hermione's, his grip on her leg firm.

"Am I?" he whispered, angry that she was using her body as a weapon against him, refusing to acknowledge the weight of his words. But if that's what she wanted…fine.

He pulled on the ribbons of her nightgown with his teeth, pausing to kiss her breasts.

Hermione gripped her pillow tightly, her mouth falling open, a moan escaping her lips.

She shivered as Draco's hands traveled down to her stomach, then to her waist...then lower, much lower…

She cried out.

They wanted to forget the war, the battle, everything about that horrible night—their pain and guilt for surviving when so many had died.

For several minutes there was only the sound of their labored breathing, the creaking and groaning of the ship…

Draco was about to remove her nightgown completely when there was a knock at the door. They both froze.

Reality came crashing down on Hermione like a large pile of rocks.

"Don't get it, " Draco hissed, his lips on her neck.

Hermione pushed him away and reached for her sweater, her cheeks flaming. She had lost control...things had gone too far…

She tied the ribbons of her nightgown, then picked up her sweater and wrapped it around herself.

Draco stood, following her to the door as she yanked it open.

Valko was on the other side, and his eyes narrowed when he saw Draco standing behind Hermione.

"There's a storm coming. We haff to resurface earlier than scheduled. Brace yourselves, this von't be a smooth passage. The captain is asking everyone to meet in the dining hall."

"What about the magical barrier?" Draco asked. "Isn't it able to withstand this sort of thing?"

Valko nodded. "Yes, but Voldemort veakened it significantly when we escaped Britain. We must rise to the surface now. We can't take any chances or ve'll be buried by sand and rock."

The ship swayed again, and Valko fell backwards into the corridor.

Hermione and Draco hung onto the doorframe of the cabin, their feet sliding.

"Hurry," Valko warned. He regained his balance and gripped the paneled wall for support, then hurried down the corridor to warn the next cabin, the floor tilting ominously below him.

"I have to find Ginny," Hermione told Draco.

The ship lurched, and she and Draco fell backwards, hitting the ground with a loud thud. An invisible wind snuffed the flames out from the candlesticks above them.

"Wait here," Malfoy said through the darkness. "I'll get Ginny."

Hermione nodded.

As Draco left, his arm pushed against the nightstand, and the book from the Founder's Chambers dropped onto the floor.

Its pages flipped open but there was no wind.

Ink appeared on one of the pages, revealing a date.

_June, 1945_

Hermione frowned, there was something oddly familiar about that date.

Then it hit her.

That was the year Tom Riddle had graduated. Hermione had expected the pages to turn further back in time, to the days of the Founders.

She hesitated. Should she wait for Draco to come back?

But what if this was her only chance?

If she waited, the book might seal itself again. She stretched her hand towards it. There was no telling what would happen when she touched its pages…

There was a flash of light and Hermione screamed. She was yanked forward by an invisible hook, a loud wind howling all around her.

Moments later the volume snapped shut, and the cabin was empty. Thin, slanted words appeared on the cover of the book:

 _Hogwarts, A True History_.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greater than any wizard who came before...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter, and thank you to everyone who has been following this story :)

Hermione was standing in the entrance hall of Hogwarts, barefoot and in her nightgown. The door that led to the grounds was open, letting in a draft of cold air. There were several people gathered outside, preparing for some kind of magical event. Her thick, woolen sweater was the only thing that kept the chill from sinking into her bones. She looked around. It was eerie. It was as if the battle had never happened. The walls, pillars and corridors of Hogwarts were still intact, the staircases running like clockwork.

Then Hermione remembered she was in the past. The year was 1945 and she was nothing but a ghostly visitor.

There was a short, elderly wizard walking down the corridor in front of her.

He halted when he heard a voice.

"Headmaster Dippet!"

The voice echoed in the hallway.

Hermione turned. A plump witch with flyaway hair was hastening towards them.

"What is it Professor Merrywood?" Dippet asked, adjusting his long purple robe.

"It's Tom Riddle sir," she said out of breath. "I don't know what's happened. He's in your office—asked to see you. He's not well, Headmaster, not well at all."

Dippet's face fell. "The graduation ceremony starts in two hours, we don't have time—"

"I insist you see him, Headmaster. We cannot leave him in such a state—"

Hermione followed Dippet and Merrywood to the seventh floor. When they reached Dippet's office, he opened the door cautiously. Huddled in a corner of the room was Tom Riddle. He was shaking. His robes were torn, and there was blood on his face and hands.

But even with the blood that marred his face, Hermione could see that he was incredibly handsome.

He had hazel eyes, high cheekbones, a well defined jaw and jet-black black hair.

"Tom, what's happened?" Dippet demanded.

The boy lifted his head slowly, as if coming out of a long stupor. He looked at Dippet, then at Merrywood registering where he was, almost like he'd forgotten. Then something flashed across his eyes. Some kind of recognition. "I need to see Dumbledore," he said.

Dippet stared at him in consternation. "Professor Dumbledore is seeing to the Graduation ceremony. He has amassed quite a crowd, many wish to congratulate him on his recent—"

Tom's mood changed instantly, and his face contorted with rage. "I don't care! Call him at once!"

Dippet took a step backward, stunned at Tom's reaction. "Now Mr. Riddle, this is most unlike you…"

Tom cradled his head in his hands. _They didn't understand. He'd have to make them see…why couldn't they just get Dumbledore?_

Dippet was looking at Tom with increasing concern. Hermione guessed he had never seen him in such a state before.

"Mrs. Merrywood, call Professor Dumbledore, tell him it's an emergency."

The plump witch nodded and left the office.

"Now see here, Mr. Riddle…"

Tom was consumed by panic, his eyes wide. He was no longer listening to Dippet.

_Nothing mattered anymore, not after what he'd seen, not after what he'd done. But it would be put right. Dumbledore would put it right._

"What is it boy, what's happened?" Dippet pressed again. "Were you attacked?"

Tom began rambling, but none of what he said made any sense.

Dippet's eyes widened. Riddle had lost his mind. He crouched down, and pressed his wand to the boy's temple.

This was the only way…he'd have to extract his memories.

Gossamer silver strands emerged from the tip of the wand. Dippet pulled a flask from his robes and collected them.

There was a black cabinet behind his desk. A shallow stone basin lay there with carvings around the edges. Dippet tipped Riddle's memories into the pensieve. The silver-blue memories swirled, and moments later they became transparent, like glass.

Dippet looked down into the basin, and Hermione crept up behind him, eager to get a closer look. She could just make out a foggy London street…

Her vision was suddenly obscured by Dippet's head, who was leaning forward, prepared to fall into the memory.

Hermione hesitated. She didn't know if she should dive in…

She was already trapped in the pages of a book, and now she was on the verge of falling into Tom Riddle's memory. What if she couldn't get back to the present?

Dippet started to disappear.

Hermione panicked. She took a deep breath, and decided to take the risk. She didn't come all this way for nothing...

In one quick movement she leaned in after him. The office gave a terrible lurch, and she was thrown forward, falling through an icy-cold wind.

She spun at an uncontrollable speed, Dippet at her side. She shut her eyes, and her stomach turned over as the velocity picked up, pulling them further into the unknown.

Moments later Hermione's feet hit solid ground.

She opened her eyes and looked around.

She had landed on a dimly lit street in 1940's London.

It was early morning. The cobblestones were wet with rain.

Hermione stood and worried she might slip. But oddly, her feet remained dry.

Tom Riddle was a few feet away, walking briskly. Hermione hurried after him.

She was barefoot, and in the middle of London, following Tom and old Headmaster Dippet down the street after street. She realized the strange sight they must make, an old wizard, and a barefoot girl in her nightgown, then she remembered no one could see them.

A thick, morning fog rolled out in front of them, and Londoners were gathered out in the streets in mass. The excitement on their faces contrasted with the gloomy weather.

Tom was dressed like a muggle, in trousers, a vest, a long coat, and a hat. He was even more handsome now that there was no blood marring his features. People turned to look at him, admiring him, but Tom took no notice of them.

His gaze was fixed straight ahead, his mind wandering…

 _The times were changing,_ Tom mused. _And Grindelwald was losing his battle abroad._

The _light_ was winning.

Muggle Londoners were cheering around him. They jostled past him, ready to join the parades and celebrations that were taking place all around the city.

They had no idea that Grindelwald's war had influenced their war too.

"Get your paper! Victory in Europe!"

The newspaper boy shoved past Tom, and the headline on the front page rippled in the wind, heralding the end of an era—as the wizard war and the muggle war connected to it drew to a close.

Tom's hopes of glory were fading. The stories in the Daily Prophet were fresh in his mind: _Dumbledore Defeats Grindelwald in Epic Duel._

And while the war had raged abroad, Tom had fought his own small battle at home, at Hogwarts. It was his duty as the Heir of Slytherin to release Salazar's monster, and a girl was dead. He did not regret it. Myrtle Warren would not be missed. She was insignificant. History would forget her.

And yet…he saw Warren in his dreams. She haunted him. He was not sure if he'd ever be able to shake the memory of her pale face staring up at him after he killed her.

And after the investigation that followed her death, it became clear to Tom that he could lose everything. Everything he'd worked for in the wizarding world could vanish in an instant. If he hadn't blamed Hagrid, the blame may have fallen on him. He was sure Dumbledore was set on finding evidence against him.

And now Dumbledore had defeated Grindelwald. Grindelwald who everyone thought was invincible, Grindelwald who's ranks he had desperately hoped to join.

_The mighty could fall._

But perhaps, in time, he could surpass the achievements of the wizards that came before him. He could be greater than Grindelwald, greater than even Salazar Slytherin…

But there was one problem.

There was _her_. He could not lose _her._

Tom stopped in front of Bellefaire Orphanage, a grim, square looking building surrounded by high railings.

He had no fond memories of the place.

Mr. Bellefaire was a cruel man. From the time he was a child, Bellefaire had made a point of visiting the orphanage on the first Sunday of every month. He doled out severe and twisted punishments to the students that struck his fancy. Tom was often on the receiving end of those punishments. Bellefaire had a particular interest in him...a sordid one that lasted years.

For Tom there was life before his first "punishment" and life after.

The matron and the teachers said nothing, fearful they'd lose their employment.

Tom hated Bellefaire deeply, but he'd also learned a great deal from the man.

He had died a year before Tom left to Hogwarts. His many indiscretions, illegal dealings and abuses were never discovered or reported to the police. He died safe in his wealth and his power.

And so Tom learned, it was better to be feared than admired. Better to take than to give. Money, notoriety, power. Those were you friends, those were your allies. People could not be trusted. They were too weak and unpredictable.

Tom looked around at the familiar streets. It was here that he learned to fend for himself. It was here he learned that his good looks could get him. The trust of a stranger, their wallet, their hard earned shillings, anything he wanted.

Over time, stealing became second nature to him. The London streets and its unsuspecting citizens were his for the taking.

But he had more important goals now...

Tom stopped in front of the gates of the orphanage. Two muggle boys were standing in the bare courtyard on the other side. They looked at him uneasily, not welcoming his return.

"Riddle?" one asked, cautiously. "I thought you weren't back until summer?"

"I'm looking for Catherine," Tom said, a warning in his voice.

The two boys looked at each other uneasily. The skinnier of the two answered him.

"She's out by the looking point."

Tom walked through the cobblestoned street, his hands in his pockets. He imagined Catherine's look of surprise when she finally saw him.

She was his accomplice in many ways. She covered for him when the other children at the orphanage accused him of wrongdoing, she helped him steal in the streets of London. She shared his vision for the future. The two of them were born low but they would rise high above their circumstances. Of that, they were certain. It was their destiny...

A few feet away was Hermione, who had watched Tom closely all this time, wondering why he'd left Hogwarts to return to the orphanage he hated. Dippet was a few feet behind her now, the expression on his face unreadable.

Tom found Catherine leaning over the railing of the lookout point. The entire city of London was laid out before them.

Tom had a vision of he and Catherine when they were eight, standing in this exact place, making plans—pretending they weren't orphans but the children of wealthy foreigners, visiting the busy city on holiday.

Catherine was tall and matched his height. She had flowing black hair, bright blue eyes and a long, slender neck.

Hermione thought she looked rather beautiful.

"Tom…?" Catherine asked, finally sensing his presence.

He smiled. "Catherine."

"What are you doing here?" she said slowly. "I thought you were away at school."

"They sent us home early…to celebrate the end of the war. My exams are finished. I don't have to return until graduation."

It was partly true. Hogwarts was celebrating the defeat of Grindelwald. Many students had been separated from their families, and some were permitted to leave school and return home. Dippet knew he had no family, but when he told him a close friend was ill, he let him leave just the same.

Tom had expected Catherine to run into his arms and embrace him, but she looked at him apprehensively, like she needed to tell him something unpleasant.

When she didn't speak, Tom took a step closer to her. "I heard rumors that you were ill, I wanted to make sure you were alright."

He leaned over the railing next to her, and stared into her face, willing her to look at him.

When she didn't, he put his hand on her shoulder.

"Catherine, what is it? Tell me."

She shrugged his hand away and wrapped her coat tightly around herself, her breath coming out in puffs.

"Haven't you missed me at all?" he asked, moving behind her and bending down to kiss her long, elegant neck.

She pushed him away. "We can't keep doing this, Tom. Things changed while you were away."

"We had a perfect summer—"

"Yes, we did. But I'm engaged now."

Hermione looked at the pair in shock. _Tom was in love with a muggle, not a wealthy witch as she expected._

"Jack is a good man," Catherine said. "He'll give me a good life."

"The bricklayer?" Tom asked, indignantly. "You don't love him. You'll tire of him within a week."

"I'm not joking Tom, I'm marrying him," she extended a hand out to him, showing him the gold band that circled around her finger.

Tom took her hand. "But you don't love him," he repeated, more to himself than to her.

Catherine sighed. "No Tom, I love _you_. But you keep so many secrets. I only see you for the summer, and then you disappear for the rest of the year. You've never let me visit you at school, and I've never met any of your friends. It's almost like you want to hide us from each other."

"Catherine, I've told you, you don't want to meet the people from my school. They're posh snobs. They won't be kind. I barely tolerate them at all."

"It's not just that Tom. What happened with Benjamin Woodburne last summer—it wasn't right. You almost paralyzed him and all for some stupid fight the two of you had over nothing. All our lives, you've always been on the brink of crossing the line. Up until now you danced right on it, but now—now you've gone too far. He could have died…I don't want to see that side of you ever again."

"It was an accident," Tom insisted.

Catherine shook her head. "You and I both know that isn't true. I never told anyone, but—I can't lie for you forever. It's happened before—"

"I lost control, I admit it, but you know me better than anyone, I care for you, Catherine. We can be happy."

She silenced him.

"That's not all." She swallowed uneasily. "I'm not well Tom."

He scanned her face, his heart slowing. "So the rumors are true? You've been ill?"

"The doctors say my mind isn't right. It's a very complicated disease. It starts with mild hallucinations, but then it gets to the point where you can't remember what's real and what's not." She dropped her voice to a whisper. "I scare myself sometimes. They're suggesting electroshock therapy and other things, but I don't want to do any of that. I'll need to be looked after. Jack will look after me."

Tom's mind was racing. She was so young. How could she be ill?

Tom didn't listen to what Catherine said next. There had to be a solution...

Magic could cure her, if muggle medicine could not. He was sure of it.

"We're not kids anymore Tom. We used to talk about when we'd be grand. A fine lady and a gentleman, walking through Knightsbridge. I'll never be a fine lady Tom. I don't fit into your plans." She took a deep breath. "You never say much about your school, but I can tell you're doing well. You'll rise. I'll work in a factory until my mind goes, then I'll be Jack's wife and nothing else. We weren't meant to be."

"You don't mean that," Tom said, kneeling in front of her. "Marry me instead."

She laughed. "So you ask me now? Now, when I've agreed to marry someone else? Would you have ever asked me at all? Or is it just your bruised pride that spurs you on?"

"I love you Catherine. I thought you knew."

"You don't know how to love Tom. I wish you did."

"You have no idea how much I love you. All my life—"

"It's too late. You'll have to make room for someone else. That's all there is to it…I have to go."

On impulse, Catherine kissed his cheek. "Goodbye," she said, embracing him.

And then something in Tom's face changed, and his voice grew cold.

"There's something else you're hiding."

Catherine shut her eyes, cursing at herself, realizing her mistake. She shouldn't have gotten so close to him…

"Show me," Tom demanded.

Hermione frowned at the pair of them, confused as to why Tom's mood had changed so dramatically.

Catherine undid the buttons of her coat. Her back was to Hermione, but she saw the pallor on Tom's face.

"You weren't going to tell me?"

"Jack and I are going to be parents. It's not your concern."

"How many months are you?"

"Tom—"

"It's mine, isn't it? Not Jack's? That night before I went away to school. You weren't going to tell me?!"

"Tom, let me pass."

"No, Catherine," he said, his voice harsh.

She made to push past him, but Tom pulled out his wand. He was seventeen now and he no longer had the trace. He could perform magic as he pleased.

There was a blast, and a shot of fire erupted from his wand.

A line of fire circled around Catherine, blocking her path.

Her mouth dropped open in shock.

"This is the sort of thing the doctors warned me about…" she said panicking.

Tom stepped closer to her.

"You're not imagining it Catherine. It's real. I can see it too."

"No it's not!"

"There's so much I have to tell you, Catherine. So much you don't know about me. And I can get you the _proper_ help."

He reached for her arm, and with a flick of his wand the fire was gone.

"Tom, let go of me! You're scaring me!"

"I can't let you marry Jack. You'll have to come with me."

"Tom no—"

"Stupefy!"

She slumped in his arms. He carried her, and walked away from the lookout point, the London fog obscuring them from view.

Hermione turned to Dippet standing beside her. She had no idea what the old wizard was thinking, but she didn't have time to guess.

The scene dissolved…

They were in a small flat in the outskirts of London, in what appeared to be a dodgy neighborhood.

It was days later, and Tom was speaking to an elderly man at the front door. Catherine was sitting by herself in a chair, staring out a window at the far end of the room.

Hermione noticed there was a golden band on Tom's finger…and there was a matching one on Catherine's hand as well. But it wasn't the one Jack had given her. It was new. _Had he coerced her into marrying him?_

"Is there anything you can do for her," Tom was saying. "She's expecting."

"Your wife…" said the man, confirming Hermione's suspicions. "Suffers from a rare disease."

Hermione guessed the man was a healer and not a muggle doctor by the lime green robes he wore, and the emblem embroidered on his chest: a bone crossed with a wand.

The healer cleared his throat. "Psychological and social stressors can play an important part in triggering episodes of illness. She will imagine threats to her person, it's a difficult disease, she needs constant attention. Neither magic nor muggle means can stop its progression."

Tom swallowed guiltily. Was he making her worse? By exposing her to magic? By letting her into his world when he was not certain she wanted to be a part of it?

 _No_ , he told himself. She was fine, they were happy.

He would find a way to cure her himself. He knew he could do it. He had solved far more complex obstacles than this, in both the magical and muggle world.

He briefly thanked the healer, modified his memory, then sent him on his way.

Tom looked around their dingy flat.

He stole a small amount of muggle money to pay for their lodging—just enough so they wouldn't draw attention to themselves. He would need to return to Hogwarts in a few weeks time for graduation, but after that his life was his own.

He had been pursuing a job at the ministry, and for now, he gave up his plans to help the last of Grindelwald's supporters.

It was a dying cause, and if he tied his name to them he would tarnish the reputation he'd worked so tirelessly to build.

_All in good time._

He would be a model citizen for now. He would climb his way up the ministry ladder in whatever way he had to. Buying and selling secrets, until he had the right people in his pocket, indebted to him. It would take years. It was not his first choice, but he had Catherine to think of now.

Yet, there was one project he refused to let go. He would make just _one._ After all, he had risked everything for it.

What was the point of building a life, struggling and toiling to make a name for yourself…just to die in the end?

Tom was determined to defeat death. He considered it his life's purpose.

He would make one horcrux…but it required murder.

Tom hesitated at the thought of killing again.

Myrtle Warren continued to haunt his dreams. He didn't want to add another ghost to his nightly visions.

And yet, his research into the creation of horcruxes would not go to waste. Myrtle Warren was already dead. And to create a horcrux, he needed her remains.

He didn't have the chance to perform the necessary ritual at school. It was too risky with Dumbledore breathing down his neck.

Instead he bided his time, and broke into Myrtle's tomb a week after his conversation with Catherine. He severed the dead girl's arm and took strands of her hair. When he was sure he had everything he needed, he sealed the tomb again.

No one would know the difference.

He transfigured Myrtle's remains and took them to his flat in London.

Perhaps, after the ritual was complete, Myrtle would leave his dreams forever…and he would be free again.

Tom's thoughts returned to the present. He decided to give Catherine a sleeping draft and put her to bed.

Then he went to the sitting room and shut the blinds.

His first horcrux. It would be a memorable day.

On a small table he laid out his diary from school. He assembled Myrtle's remains on the table, and removed the transfiguration spell. He set candlesticks on either side of them.

A rush of excitement swept through him as he set up his cauldron. He had waited for so long…and now the moment was finally here.

Hours later he was rocking back and forth, muttering an incantation. Myrtle's hair was wrapped around his wrist.

The girl's severed arm had been cut to pieces and was sitting at the bottom of the cauldron, now on the sitting room floor in front of him.

Tom felt violently ill. Something was happening to him…his heartbeats were growing fainter…his heart was stilling…maybe it would stop beating completely. He saw dark spots in his vision and gasped for air...then like a large swell, his heart began to beat at an impossible speed…threatening to break through the walls of his chest…there was pressure behind his eyes…the first phase was starting—

There was a crash.

He spun around, Myrtle's hair still in his hand.

Catherine was awake and she'd seen everything. A lamp lay broken at her feet.

She was trembling and gripping the wall for support.

"Catherine…I can explain…"

She held a hand up as he stepped towards her, warning him not to come any closer.

"You're mad, Tom."

There was terror in her eyes, and her eyes kept darting to the door, her mind working out how fast she could escape.

Riddle moved slowly towards her, like a hunter about to subdue its prey.

When he reached Catherine, he raised a hand to touch her face, trying to calm her.

"You're mad," she said again.

"No my love," Tom, whispered into her ear, his eyes cold. "You're mad. Remember?"

Catherine's mouth fell open in shock at his cruelty. She tossed his hand away and looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. She was not imagining this…she was _not_ …

Tom thought it was a pity to manipulate her in this way, to use her deteriorating state of mind to his advantage, but he would not allow her to turn against him.

Unfortunately, modifying Catherine's memory was not an option. Her mind was already in a delicate state with the disease. He couldn't risk altering it further and losing her completely.

"I'm not imagining this!" Catherine shouted. "This isn't like your other spells. You're performing some kind of dark ritual—"

With a flick of his wand, Tom performed a concealment charm, temporarily hiding the cauldron from view.

With another flick of his wand the shutters opened. the light streamed in from the windows, brightening up the room.

"What ritual Catherine? You should get some rest, you're not well."

"But I just saw you—you were—"

"I've only just arrived home Catherine, what are you on about?"

Suddenly, his coat was draped over his arm, his hat in his hand.

Catherine stared at him, utterly astonished.

She was certain of what she'd seen. This wasn't like the other times—was it? She wasn't imagining. Tom always had a darkness in him, since they were children. But nothing he had ever done compared to what she had just seen…

Tom reached out for Catherine, but she withdrew into herself, wishing she was anywhere else, sensing she wasn't safe with him no matter what he said.

Tom prepared another sleeping draft for her, and made her take two doses this time, waiting until she was sound asleep before he began again, determined to complete his work on the horcrux.

The scene dissolved.

It was several days later. Catherine was giving birth.

Tom was pacing back and forth in their bedroom.

Catherine was bleeding profusely and the baby was coming early. He only had time to call the muggle midwife that lived up the street.

The midwife's expression was severe.

"What is it?" Tom asked.

"She and the child may not survive. It will be a difficult birth."

Tom weighed his options. He did not trust the midwife's abilities, and he knew nothing of births. Catherine needed the attention of a Healer. He would apparate them to St. Mungo's…

Then he remembered the ministry was arresting anyone who apparated. The city was on lockdown. The stragglers of Grindelwald's army were trying to escape, and the ministry was intent on catching every last one of them.

He had his broomstick, but Catherine was in no condition to fly. He bent down to lift her. He would carry her to St. Mungo's if he had to.

"You can't move her!" the midwife shouted. "She's too delicate."

The amount of blood on the sheets made Tom's head spin. "I'm going to get help," he said. "I can't let her die."

He tore out of the room.

"Lad, where are you going?!" the midwife shouted after him. "The baby's almost here!"

Tom raced to St. Mungo's, tearing down the crowded streets of London. He was hyper-aware of everything. The billowing smoke rising from the chimneys, the cars honking, people shouting, feet hitting pavement, the pulse of a hundred Londoners and the frantic beating of his own heart.

He marveled at how frail life was. How _weak_.

He could not lose her, he would not lose her.

He had to bring a healer to Catherine.

It felt like an eternity passed before he arrived at St. Mungo's.

Once inside, he was met with a firm refusal by the Head Healer.

"We can't spare anyone," the man was saying. "There was a skirmish outside of Ealing. The last of Grindelwald's followers tried to escape, and injured several ministry fighters. We're tending to them."

Tom seized the healer's robes and threw him up against the wall. "My wife might die! I need your _help_!"

"A great many people may die today young man. We're doing the best we can. I have work to do boy, unhand me _now_!"

Tom looked ready to curse him.

The healer looked into his face, saw the building anguish and frustration, and his face softened slightly.

"Contact Healer Dilys on Padwick Street. He might be able help you. He's retired now but he still attends to calls every now and again."

Tom ran out of the hospital. His throat constricted with fear. Padwick street was too far away. He'd already been gone for too long. He didn't have time to find another healer. He had to get back home. He'd deliver the child himself if he had to.

He bolted through the London streets again, his heart thundering against his chest in a merciless rhythm.

Catherine needed him. He couldn't lose her…

Half an hour later he arrived at the flat completely out of breath.

He tore through the front door and ran to Catherine's room.

The midwife was hovering over her, and he couldn't see her properly.

"WHAT'S HAPPENED?!" Tom shouted."ANSWER ME!"

The midwife turned to him, holding something."You have a son," she said. She held out a small bundle and placed it in Tom's arms. It was warm, soft and squirming.

Tom's lungs dragged in air. It was as if he had been holding his breath underwater, finally able to resurface. He stared down in shock at the little bundle in his arms.

"He's healthy and the mother is well."

Tom put his hand on the child's little chest, feeling his heartbeat.

He had Catherine's nose, and his eyes and dark hair. Tom held out a finger and watched as the baby wrapped his tiny fist around it. He had a firm, strong hold. Something warm spread through Tom's chest that he didn't recognize. It felt foreign and unfamiliar. He realized he had a family now, a real one, and he would fight fiercely to protect it. This boy would not suffer as he had suffered, he would be a fine wizard. He would accept the job at the ministry if it was offered to him. The only obstacle was Catherine, she had been intent on leaving him, but she would come around in time, she had to. Their son needed them.

Catherine looked anxious and distraught, almost on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Tom couldn't understand it. She and the child were out of harm's way. What could possibly be troubling her so?

"It was always meant to be this way," he said, trying to reassure her. "You and me together, we're a family now."

She said nothing, her mind far away from him.

Tom decided to ignore her strange behavior. He assumed it had been a difficult birth. She needed rest.

"We'll call him Henry," he said, more to himself than to Catherine.

The scene dissolved.

There were a series of other memories, most of Tom with his son. Catherine's growing depression was evident. She suppressed it in Tom's presence, but it was clear to an outsider that she was reaching her breaking point.

Finally, Hermione and Dippet came upon a final memory.

It was a dark, cloudy, day.

Tom had completed his first horcrux, but it was not enough for him. He had to find a way to transfer the power of the horcrux to his son. It was of the utmost importance to him.

Tom had almost lost Henry and Catherine in childbirth, and he never wanted to be in that position again.

He had to ensure their lives were protected.

Thorough research told him he would have to take another life, to endow his son with the protection of the dark item.

After much thought, Tom chose to kill a man who was terminally ill in a muggle hospital some distance away.

He decided he was doing the man a favor…ending his life early was, after all, a noble act.

As Tom did with Myrtle, he took what he needed from the body and returned home.

He allowed Catherine to watch this time. He needed her compliance, and her blood, for the potion to work. The ancient magic required unicorn hair, and the blood of the child's parents, in addition to the remains of the murdered victim.

The blood had to be given willingly.

Catherine watched in horror as Tom brewed a new potion, and added vials of their blood to the cauldron. She began to regret her decision. Tom had said it was for the child's health…that everything would be fine…but she knew better.

She was crying and protesting but Tom ignored her pleas.

He was carrying Henry in his arms, intent on the task at hand.

"This is the devil's work Tom. We can't—"

He poured the potion into a cup, then made to open Henry's mouth.

"STOP TOM, NO!"

She rushed at him and sent the cup flying through the air, its contents spilling across the room.

Tom lost control of himself. He flew into a rage and yelled obscenities at her.

He had killed the man for nothing, and now he would have to kill again…

He was cruel to Catherine, frustrated that his efforts had gone to waste. She threatened to leave him, but Tom would have none of it. He cast a special enchantment around the flat that prevented her from escaping or taking Henry.

An hour later Tom looked down at his watch. He was late. He had an appointment at the ministry. A final interview to secure his new position.

And then, later that night, he had to attend his graduation at Hogwarts.

Tom bit his lip. He didn't have time to talk Catherine down from her hysterics, and to his dismay, she began to hallucinate in earnest, their argument triggering the worst of her illness. Her despair was utterly consuming her…

Tom gave her a potion and told her to go to bed. He would be home in a few hours after the interview. He would see to her then.

The scene dissolved.

It was later that evening. Tom was walking down the London street that led to his flat. It was beginning to rain.

He dug into his pocket for his key and opened the door. He stopped dead at the entrance.

Catherine was lying facedown on the sitting room floor.

He rushed to her side and turned her over. There was a knife in her hand and her clothes were all wet. Tom touched her sleeve and lifted his hand to the light. It was stained red.

He realized she was covered in blood.

"What have you done?!" he cried.

He looked for cuts on her arms, thinking she had injured herself, but he found nothing. The blood wasn't hers.

"Where's Henry?" he asked.

There was an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. _Why wasn't the baby crying? He always cried when he was left alone…_

He dropped Catherine and rushed into the next room, disappearing from view.

Hermione stumbled backwards into Dippet, but he didn't flinch. The old wizard remained rooted to the spot, unable to see her.

Hermione held her breath, a terrible sense of dread spreading through her.

Suddenly, there was a loud crash and she guessed Tom had fallen to the floor.

He was yelling, but his words were unintelligible.

Hermione looked down at Catherine, finally realizing what she'd done.

In the next room, a terrible scream of anguish ripped from Tom's throat.

Hermione covered her ears, but it was no use. Tom's guttural screams were ringing in her ears.

She backed further into Dippet, paralyzed with fear.

Seconds later Tom flew back into the room.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO OUR SON!"

Catherine shielded her face with her hands.

Tom raged at her and seized her shoulders. "YOU TOOK HIM FROM ME! YOU KILLED OUR SON!"

Catherine was heaving. Convulsions ran through her body, and hot tears streamed down her face.

"Why did you do it?!"

"You can't turn him now!" Catherine cried. "His soul is safe..."

Tom's nose ran, and his eyes flooded with tears. He was shaking uncontrollably, and his eyes were bulging out of their sockets. He no longer saw the girl he loved, but an ignorant muggle who had destroyed their lives in one stroke.

Hermione knew what he was going to do before he did it. She screamed as Tom lunged forward and struck Catherine. She turned away. She didn't want to see this. She reached for Dippet's arm, hoping to yank them from the memory, but her hand fell right through him.

She was trapped in a living nightmare.

Catherine's screams, mixed with her own, were reverberating off the walls.

There were flashes of movement…the sound of strangled cries…

Hermione was trembling, struggling to find a way out of the memory, and just when she thought she couldn't take it anymore, the room was spinning.

She was tossed back and forth in an icy cold wind, Dippet beside her, his robes flapping behind him. There was a flash of light and they were both thrown forward.

Hermione landed on a cold, stone floor.

She looked up. They were back in Armando Dippet's office. Tom Riddle was still there, looking like a man destroyed.

Hermione's mind was reeling.

Tom had just found his son dead at Catherine's hand, then he'd killed her—killed his wife…the only girl he'd ever claimed to love.

She wished she hadn't seen any of it.

Dippet clutched his chest, and for a moment Hermione thought he was going to have a heart-attack. He leaned over his desk, staring at Tom through disbelieving eyes.

"You've seen what's happened then?" Tom said, staring at the pensive with wild eyes. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a ruby pendant hanging on a thin, gold chain.

"I wasn't thinking clearly, I know that now." Tom stood and stretched his hand out to Dippet.

Dippet stumbled backwards, as if Tom was a bomb that might explode at any moment.

"I transfigured her body, Headmaster," he said, gesturing to the necklace. "If I can just speak to Dumbledore he can put her right again. He defeated Grindelwald, surely he must know of a way to revive her."

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Dippet's hand tightening around his wand. The old fool wasn't listening, he seemed to be working out a way to restrain him.

And then Tom caught sight of himself in the mirror hanging above Dippet's desk.

He looked mad. There was blood all over him, and his eyes were wild. He was holding a jewel in the palm of his hand like his life depended on it. He looked possessed.

Tom turned back to Dippet, hit by a sudden realization. The old wizard had no intention of helping him. He would be sent to Azkaban, his future career as a wizard over. He had made a mistake in exposing himself. He was indeed mad with grief, but his instinct of self-preservation began to kick in, as he realized the gravity of his mistake.

"We will get you the help you need, Tom," Dippet was saying. "Just lower your wand now…"

He had not even realized he had been pointing his wand at Dippet. But all the better…

It was now or never…

"OBLIVIATE!" Tom shouted.

Dippet was blown backwards. He fell over his desk, crashed into a chair, and landed in a heap on the floor.

Tom stuffed the jewel that was Catherine's body into his robes.

Merrywood had already seen him in his current state and would undoubtedly tell Dumbledore. He had to come up with a story…

When Dumbledore arrived he would say he had been attacked in Hogsmeade.

Tom broke the mirror above Dippet's desk with his fist, and lifted a shard of glass from the floor.

He cut his arms and legs with it, so it would appear the blood on his robes was his own.

He was numb to the pain, his mind set on one purpose, one mission, to make it out of the office with his reputation intact.

He repaired the mirror and lifted Dippet up.

He sat the wizard in his chair, then straightened up the items that had fallen from his desk.

"Ennervate," he said.

Dippet slowly came to life, and with quick wandwork, Tom planted a false memory into his mind.

Moments later he heard the sound of footsteps. No doubt Dumbledore and Merrywood would burst upon the scene at any moment.

Tom looked down at his wand, then snapped it in half, just as the door to the office flew open.

"Tom?" Dumbelore asked at once, taking in his appearance.

"The boy was attacked!" Dippet cried indignantly, slamming his fist on his desk. "Just now! In Hogsmeade!"

Hermione's eyes widened.

"Grindelwald supporters," Tom said firmly. "They were angry over the outcome of the war. They wanted to stir up trouble."

He lifted his broken wand and handed it to Dumbledore.

"I tried to fight them Professor, but I was outnumbered."

Dumbledore looked at Tom through his half-moon spectacles for several minutes.

Eventually he said, "I will call the school nurse to look at your injuries."

"They are minor," Tom said quickly. "It's more the shock than anything else, Professor."

"Grindelwald supporters disturbing the peace in Hogsmeade, we will catch them dear boy," Dippet promised fervently.

Dumbledore ignored him. He was looking at Tom intently.

Hermione had the feeling he was trying to see into his mind.

Tom sensed it too. He closed his mind off, and showed Dumbledore what he wanted him to see. Four thugs, an attack in Hogsmeade, flying spells, a broken wand.

"Perhaps, you do not wish to attend the ceremony, Tom. You've suffered a great shock."

Dumbledore didn't believe him, of that Tom was certain. But he could prove nothing of what had transpired. He had no idea of the truth, because he wasn't able to see into his mind. And that, gave Tom an incredible amount of satisfaction.

Despite defeating Grindelwald, the greatest wizard that ever lived, Dumbledore was not able to see into his, Tom Riddle's mind. A seventeen year old boy who was reeling from the greatest shock of his life.

"I will attend," Tom said firmly. "I don't see why this incident should alter my plans. I will however, need a new wand. A spare for now, until I can visit Ollivander's."

"Of course," said Dumbledore, raising an eyebrow at Tom's demanding tone. "We shall procure one for you."

Tom and Dumbledore stared each other down. Dumbledore looked like he wanted to say something more, but instead he turned to Professor Merrywood. "Please accompany Mr. Riddle to see the school nurse."

He turned to Tom. "I will see you at the ceremony."

Minutes later Hermione watched Tom attend his graduation. He flashed a smile when he had to, shook hands, made toasts and laughed, acting as if had not just murdered his wife and lost his son.

But at the end of the day he strayed from the crowd...lost in thought.

 _Dumbledore didn't trust him,_ Tom pondered. _And what if he looked into Dippet's mind? He could figure out the truth. He'd have to go abroad. He couldn't risk rotting in Azkaban at the age of seventeen._

Tom swallowed.

He was cursed. He could never live a normal life. Perhaps he was not meant to. He had been foolish in wanting one. He would go home and bury his wife and son.

Then, he would make a new name for himself.

His muggle father had to die, there was no question about that. He had to erase all traces of his past before he assumed his new identity…

Tom breathed in deeply.

He also had to modify the memories of everyone who knew Catherine at the orphanage, destroy any written record of her...

Immortality was all he desired now.

Hermione felt a tap on her shoulder. She gasped in surprise and spun around.

Malfoy had appeared out of nowhere.

"It's time to go," he said, his voice stern.

He took hold of Hermione's arm and before she could stop him, the scene was vanishing and they were wrapped in a blinding white light.

All Hermione could think was one thing.

_Catherine was Tom Riddle's wife. She was his muggle wife._

She caught a final glimpse of Tom as he walked away, no longer a boy but a broken man, and she knew what he was thinking…

If no one would love him, then they would fear him. While the world was celebrating the defeat of Grindelwald, and the rise of Albus Dumbledore, Tom's world had ended. But he would be re-born. He would forget Catherine and the son they had. He was free of all ties that made him weak.

In time, he would be greater than Grindelwald, he would be greater than all the wizards who came before.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Thanks for reading! I'm planning to post bi-weekly from now on, instead of weekly, as my schedule at work is ramping up. You can check back here for an official release date on Chapter 12 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Étretat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovely readers! Thank you for all the wonderful reviews on the last chapter! You inspire me to write!

"Whatever you saw, whatever you heard, I need you to focus on the present now."

Hermione was lying facedown on the floor of her cabin, gasping for air. Draco was hovering above her.

"I need you to stand."

Hermione nodded, startled to find herself back aboard the Dragomir and not at Hogwarts.

She noticed the floor was tilting, the furniture was sliding forward, and Draco was struggling to maintain his balance.

Her mind struggled to piece her memories together. Valko had knocked on the cabin door, and Draco had gone to find Ginny before she disappeared.

It felt like a lifetime ago.

"Have we resurfaced?" Hermione asked, remembering the storm.

"No," Draco said. "We have to go, come on."

He helped her to her feet.

"Where's Ginny?" she asked thickly, as he pushed her into the corridor.

"In the dining hall, Granger, exactly where you should be."

Draco stopped dead. Hermione felt water seep into her shoes. She looked down. The corridor was flooding.

"Hurry," Draco urged, leading her forward.

There were fairy lights illuminating the corridor and they followed them all the way to the dining hall.

The double doors were pushed open. The chairs and tables had been nailed to the floor. The students had conjured ropes and tied themselves to anything they could find.

The chandelier above them trembled menacingly as the ship tilted upwards, fighting its way to the surface.

"Ginny!" Hermione cried, catching sight of her at the far end of the hall.

Suddenly, the ship rolled to one side, and she was thrown off balance.

She threw hands out in front of her, trying to break her fall.

She hit the floor with a thud, and looked up at the chandelier, fearful it would come crashing down.

She crawled forward, eager to get to the other side.

"Granger, wait!" Malfoy shouted behind her.

She picked herself up and ran the rest of the way, throwing her arms around Ginny when she finally reached her.

Ginny was crouched under a table holding Crookshanks. "Where were you?" she asked resentfully.

"I'm sorry." Hermione said. "I—"

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and turned to see Draco had caught up to her. He conjured a rope with his wand.

He looped the rope around Hermione's wrist, then his own, tying them to the leg of the table.

Hermione and Ginny huddled against each other, staring out of the large, arched windows.

Cracks were beginning to form on the glass.

The ship continued to tilt upwards, and suddenly there was a flash of violet light, so bright it was blinding. The light lingered for a few seconds, then extinguished, cloaking them in darkness once more.

"What was that?" Hermione asked.

"The magical barrier," Draco replied. "It must have collapsed."

The ship trembled violently and everyone screamed.

"What's happening?" Ginny cried.

They heard three short blasts, and the windows fractured completely.

Hermione and Ginny ducked, as jets of water blasted into the dining hall. She heard shrieks and cries as students were pummeled by the freezing water.

The ship was crashing through the surface now.

With a final lurch the Dragomir emerged from the depths of the ocean. The ship bobbed for a moment before steadying itself. Water spilled down its sides, falling back into the angry sea.

Through the broken windows the students could see enormous waves churning across the ocean...and thick, dark thunder clouds filled the sky.

Crookshanks squirmed out of Ginny's arms and raced across the room.

"Crookshanks!" Hermione cried.

She made to stand, then fell down, forgetting she was tied to the table.

She reached for her wand, but Draco seized her wrist.

"Leave the stupid cat, Granger!"

Hermione ignored him. She lifted her wand and shouted, "Relashio!"

The rope binding her to Malfoy fell away.

She ran across the hall.

Draco cursed loudly and went after her. "Stay put!" he shouted over his shoulder to Ginny.

Crookshanks ran down a corridor and turned left, dashing out a door that was hanging off its hinges.

"No!" Hermione cried. "He's going outside!"

The ginger cat ran as fast as his legs could carry him, momentarily disappearing from view.

Draco caught up to Hermione, and they both froze when they reached the deck.

Lightning flashed across the sky, revealing an expanse of dark ocean as far as the eye could see.

It was more terrible than any nightmare.

The crew was scurrying about, trying to secure the ropes. Nikola was shouting commands from the helm, urging them all to move faster.

There was another flash of lightning, and Hermione and Draco looked up, hearing something snap above them.

One of the masts had splintered, and Draco and Hermione jumped back as the debris hit the deck.

"Vat are you doing? Go back inside!" Valko shouted at them.

Hermione struggled to see through the heavy rain. The gale pushed her forward, whipping her hair into her face.

"What the _hell_ is that?" Draco said suddenly.

Hermione followed his line of vision. Her heart jerked to a halt.

A monstrous wave was forming. It was over a hundred feet tall, and they were headed straight for it.

The ship careened forward, and Hermione's mouth fell open in shock as she realized Nikola was going to try to ride the wave.

"There's no way we're going to make it over that!" Draco shouted. "We'll turn over!"

Panicked, they conjured ropes and tied themselves to the handrail. The crew did the same.

Hermione lifted Crookshanks into her arms.

She saw Nikola at the helm of the ship, her coat flapping up behind her. Lightning illuminated her as she drove them forward. Konstantin yapped at her side, tied to her leg.

_Nikola was mad…they would never make it…_

"This is it!" Draco shouted, as they reached the wave.

The entire crew looked up, riveted at the sheer scale of the monstrosity in front of them.

The ship soared up, and Hermione and Draco clung to the railing.

Their feet slid out from under them as the Dragomir made its way over the enormous swell.

Hermione shut her eyes. There was a rush of sound…the howling wind, the roar of the ocean, the clap of thunder…

She felt her feet leave the deck, her body lifted up…she was floating in mid-air…

For one precious moment anything was possible…but then panic seized her and her eyes shot open.

Draco took her hand and she inhaled sharply.

Everything tipped forward, her body, the ship…and they fell into blackness, falling…falling…

She thought of her parents, of Harry and Ron, of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley…

_Would she ever see them again?_

They fell faster and faster, eventually hitting the water with a terrible force, landing on the other side of the wave.

A blast of water rained down upon them. The chill seeped into Hermione's bones, but she didn't care…somehow, they were alive.

Draco and Hermione turned to look behind them.

The colossal wave had crashed down with a terrible force.

Nikola and the crew cheered. Hermione collapsed into Draco's arms, exhausted. They had survived…by some miracle they would live to see another sunrise.

***

The next day the sky was a brilliant blue. Hermione and Draco's hands were still tied to the handrail. They had fallen asleep on the deck.

Hermione heard movement above her, and looked up. Seagulls were flying overhead.

"Land!" said a member of the crew. "Just there!"

Hermione pushed herself up to see, and her jaw dropped open.

For a moment she thought they hadn't survived the storm, for they had arrived in a place akin to heaven.

They were surrounded by towering white cliffs, and two beautiful arches made entirely of rock sat on either side of them. There was a large, white pillar rising up from the sea, and the turquoise water sparkled with magic.

The Dragomir made its way closer to land.

Hermione looked up, craning her neck to see. The land above the cliffs was covered in violets and lilacs, and the grass looked smooth, parting slightly in the breeze.

"Étretat!" Nikola shouted from the helm.

"Draco look," Hermione said, shaking him awake.

He opened his eyes slowly and sat up, taking in the sight before them.

There were witches and wizards waiting for them on the shore of the magical town. They waved white handkerchiefs in their hands, and shot golden sparks into the air with their wands.

There were tents on the cliffside high above the town. Hermione guessed they were for the first and second years. Nikola had told her a concealment charm had been placed around the area, to keep curious muggles at bay.

Hermione looked up. The storm had shredded many of the sails, and she gathered the crew would work on restoring the ship for the next few days.

They docked half an hour later.

One by one the students disembarked **,** looking in awe at the seaside town in front of them.

Some of the crew left the ship too, eager to hear the latest news of the war.

Draco watched them step down, remembering Nikola's words: _"Étretat is sacred land. The devil cannot enter, you cannot enter."_

Hermione touched his shoulder. "I'm going to take Ginny down. I'll probably stay on shore…until the ship is repaired. I'm guessing it might be a few days."

Draco turned away from her. A part of him panicked. They were no longer in Britain, closed off from the world. She could go anywhere she wanted. What if she decided to apparate away from the coast? She wasn't seventeen yet, but he suspected Dumbledore had lifted the restriction for her in Étretat and anywhere else she planned to go.

She could be gone in an instant. And if he lost her, he lost everything.

But there was something else that bothered him. He couldn't stand the thought of her double-crossing him, because that would mean…it would mean she never truly cared for him.

And she had an awful habit of acting on impulse, like touching that blasted book. Last night she had told him all about Tom Riddle's past, and while he thought the knowledge would prove useful, he didn't think she should have risked her life for it.

_They had been in the middle of a bloody storm for merlin's sake._

Draco forced his face into a mask of calm, remembering his conversation with her from the night before. She had told him traveling aboard the Dragomir was the safest way. The crew would fix the magical barrier and she would sail on to wherever it was Dumbledore had asked her to go. She hadn't told him where, or if she wanted him to accompany her, but he had to ensure that she did.

"Draco?" Hermione said, interrupting his thoughts. "I'm leaving now."

"Right," Draco said, looking down at his Dark Mark resentfully. "Don't let me keep you."

Hermione left his side to join Ginny.

" _He_ isn't coming?" Ginny asked astutely.

Hermione shook her head. "He can't. Death Eaters can't enter Étretat."

Draco overheard, and her words cut into him, sharp like a knife.

_Is that all she saw him as? A Death Eater?_

He forced himself to exhale.

It was true, after all. She was an angel and he was a devil, waiting for the opportunity to strike. He had a feeling Potter was closer than ever. He just had to bide his time…

***

As Hermione made her way to shore, she recalled her conversation with Draco from the night before.

He was furious with her for touching the book and disappearing, and she couldn't blame him. She might have drowned, trapped in its pages while they were caught in the storm.

Hermione sighed. Thankfully that hadn't happened. She decided to tell him nothing of Harry, only that she had to sail away after the ship was repaired.

Draco had listened to her intently, but he'd hardly said anything at all.

Hermione breathed in deeply. It was time to decide…

Time to decide if she should trust Draco fully, or walk away from him forever.

She looked behind her. Draco was watching her progress from the deck of the ship. Although he was only a few feet away, it felt like there was a world between them. And she knew he felt it too.

She felt an uneasiness in the pit of her stomach.

It felt strange to part from Draco after everything they'd been though…

He had been her support in the absence of her friends. But maybe distance is exactly what they needed…she needed time to think…she could ruin everything if she chose poorly.

***

Back on the ship, curiosity got the better of Draco. He moved towards the ramp that led to shore.

"I vouldn't do that if I were you," Nikola warned, an eyebrow raised.

Draco jumped. He hadn't heard her approach.

Nikola looked at him shrewdly, and Konstantin ran up behind her, barking.

His fur coat shone like silk in the sunlight.

Nikola blocked his way to the ramp. "You should go back to your cabin."

Draco smirked at her. For all he knew, she was bluffing. He hoisted himself over the handrail of the ship. He hesitated for a moment, then let himself fall overboard.

He hit the water with a splash.

Nothing happened.

He swam several strokes until he reached shallow water.

When he could step, he moved forward until the water was only ankle deep.

He took a step towards shore, then another, and another…

He smirked. _Nikola was obviously—_

Then he felt it. An electric blast of energy that shocked his whole body.

He stumbled for balance, and as he reached a hand out to steady himself, something burned him.

He screamed in agony and looked down at his Dark Mark. It was glowing bright red as if someone had set him on fire.

He doubled over. He couldn't pass the invisible line, and he couldn't step back either. He was trapped.

He heard the sound of splashing water behind him, and someone yanked on his robes, forcing him to take several steps back.

"Had enough, Mr. Malfoy?" Nikola said sternly. "Miroslav and Valko are vaiting for you in the galley. There's work to be done on the ship."

"You're not going to lock me up?" Draco asked bitterly.

"No need," Nikola said brightly, adjusting her hat. "You couldn't call the Dark Lord even if you vanted to. Your magic is useless here."

Draco raised his wand. He tried to levitate Nikola's hat off her head.

It didn't move.

He looked at her resentfully.

He could not do magic, at least not while on these shores.

***

Moments later, Nikola joined Hermione, Ginny and the crowd of onlookers that had gathered to greet them on land. She found the Head Witch in charge, and discussed arrangements for the first and second year students. The conversation soon turned to the war. Hermione waited with baited breath.

"We have news of the Weasley family," Nikola said suddenly, motioning for Hermione and Ginny to follow her up the cliffside. Hermione guessed they were headed for the tents.

"What is it?" Ginny asked anxiously, trudging after her.

"Maybe we should talk in private," Hermione told Nikola, giving Ginny a sideways glance.

"No," the young girl said fiercely. "I want to know what's happened."

"We vill talk at the encampment," Nikola said, continuing the strenuous hike.

They were out of breath once they made it to the top of the cliffs. They had long, sweeping views of the ocean, and the Dragomir looked like a tiny dot in the distance.

"Come in," Nikola said, motioning for them to step inside a golden-white tent.

She pulled the flap open.

Once inside they saw the space was three times larger than it appeared on the outside. There was a desk, a cot, a shelf full of books and several maps pinned to large wooden boards.

Nikola sat in a large armchair.

Hermione was hit by a sudden flashback of the Quidditch World Cup…Mr. Weasley laughing with Fred and George as they set up their tent…she and Ron and Ron going off to collect firewood, Molly making hot chocolate for Ginny…

"Have a seat," Nikola said, motioning to two chairs.

Hermione and Ginny sat down, looking at the older witch expectantly.

"We've received a report from the Magical Alliance," Nikola began, looking directly at Ginny. "Your father, Arthur Weasley and two of your brothers, Bill and Charlie were found by members of the Order. They are alive. Mr. Weasley was gravely injured, but we believe he vill recover."

Ginny swallowed. "And the rest of my family?"

Nikola nodded. "As you know, your mother, Molly Weasley, was reported missing several weeks ago. The Order discovered that she was taken by snatchers. Her three younger sons were working with a member of the Order to recover her. They were captured in the Forest of Dean by Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy."

Ginny stared at her in shocked silence.

Nikola went on. "I'm afraid that's not all. Before they ver captured, Ronald Weasley was attacked by Fenrir Greyback."

"Fenrir Greyback? The werewolf?" Ginny asked weakly.

Nikola nodded. "I'm afraid your brother is no longer as you remember him. He was bitten most severely."

"You mean, Greyback…"

"Yes, Ms. Weasley. I am sorry to say your brother is no longer fully human."

Hermione's mouth dropped open.

"My dream," Ginny whispered. "I knew something was wrong—"

Hermione remembered her last conversation with Ron, they had argued and said terrible things…

"Does the Order know where Bellatrix took them?" Hermione asked desperately. "What about Mrs. Weasley?"

Nikola sighed. "They have reason to believe they're keeping them all at Greymoor Castle, a few miles from Hogwarts, but we don't know for certain."

Hermione nodded, in the papers she'd read that Greymoor Castle belonged to Bellatrix's husband, Rodolphus Lestrange. The Order told her it was filled with dark curses and traps. It was abandoned after the last war, and no ministry or Order member had been able to break through its walls.

And now with Voldemort winning, it was no surprise the Lestranges had taken up residence there once more.

"Why didn't Dumbledore help the Weasley's leave Britain before the war started?" Hermione asked, suddenly furious. "He helped my parents. Why didn't he do the same for them? He knew they'd be targets—"

"My parents insisted on staying," Ginny said quietly. "Dumbledore offered us all a way out, but we wanted to stay and fight, just like you did. We never thought the ministry would fall so soon."

"But what does Bellatrix want with them?!" Hermione exclaimed. "They don't know where Harry is!"

"Then they need to make up a story," Nikola said gravely. "Or Bellatrix vill kill them. They need to spin a tale long enough for the Order to find them."

Hermione felt trapped in the small space of the tent. She shouldn't have let Ron and his brothers leave Hogwarts. She should have fought harder…forced them to stay…

But deep down she knew they wouldn't have listened, not while Molly was in danger. And if she was in their place, she would have done the same…risked everything to save her parents.

Hermione couldn't breathe. She was choking on anguish and fear.

She ran out of the tent.

"Ms. Granger!" Nikola shouted.

She knew she shouldn't fall apart in front of Ginny, but her desire to get away was stronger than anything else.

She ran without looking back, only stopping when she reached the edge of the cliffs.

She looked down. The water crashed against the rocks and her vision blurred. The tears fell fast and free-flowing. She took a step back, her balance wavering. Endless thoughts swirled around her head, crushing her.

She sat by the cliffside and cried. The Weasley's were like a second family. She couldn't imagine life without them.

She didn't know for how long she sat there, but eventually Ginny found her.

Hermione wiped away her tears. "I—I'm not sure what to do anymore, Ginny. Maybe I should go back, forget about finding Harry…"

Ginny shook her head. "You have to find Harry like Dumbledore asked. If you go back they'll capture you too. My brothers were never going to stay put at Hogwarts. My mum was in trouble and they had to help her…"

"Yes, and now they're all in trouble," Hermione said furiously. She looked into the distance. The sun was starting to set, lighting up the cliffs.

The Dragomir bobbed on the water, and her thoughts drifted to Draco. Now she understood his desperation. His mother was trapped too, and there was nothing he could do about it. How had he carried on with that uncertainty?

Ginny followed Hermione's line of vision. "Malfoy…do you trust him?"

Hermione was taken aback by the question, but she didn't hesitate. She had made her decision. "Yes, I do. I didn't at first, but I do now." Hermione reached for Ginny's hand. "But you don't, do you? Even though he saved our lives? Back at the lake?"

Ginny met her eyes. " _His_ family is holding _mine_ captive. How can I trust him?" She pulled her hand away. "I have a bad feeling about him, Hermione. You should be careful."

"Did you see something again, in one of your dreams?

Ginny's red hair whipped into her face, and her eyes looked dark and ominous.

"No," she said. "Nothing."

Hermione swallowed.

They sat on the cliffside in silence, staring out into the ocean.

Hermione felt a chill run up her spine.

Ginny had been right about Ron. Was she right about Draco too?

***

The next few days passed by in a blur. Hermione's concern for the Weasley's consumed her and she thought of little else. She wanted to return home, but she knew Spain was a means to an end. If she could get the Arévalo vampires to join the fight against Voldemort, they would stand a chance—without them, the fight would be much longer…

During the day, she swallowed her fear and anxiety for Ginny's sake, but after dark she was plagued with nightmares.

And one night in particular, she couldn't sleep at all.

Hermione tossed her covers aside, and left the tent she shared with Ginny. She walked down the cliffside, worried that she'd lose her footing in the dark. She heard the sound of crickets chirping and the occasional crash of the waves.

Her anxiety clouded her mind, making her weak…and she had to make it stop.

Minutes later she made it to shore. She stared out at the ocean. The waves glowed an unearthly, electric blue.

She was an excellent swimmer, but she'd kept away from the ocean since they'd docked. She still remembered her near-death experience in the lake.

She took a step closer to the water, determined to overcome her fear. She had to do this. She had control over little else in her life, but she could control this.

Hermione took a step forward and the water swirled around her ankles. She continued moving forward until she was waist-deep. She ran her hand through the foam-filled water, leaving jets of glowing blue light in her wake.

She swam away from shore until she couldn't step anymore. The ice-cold water stilled her thoughts. A wave rolled towards her…and she took a deep breath, diving to avoid it before it hit her.

Instinct told her to swim up right away, but she made herself stay below water, testing her resolve… she could kick up to the surface when she wanted to, there was no need to panic…

She remained submerged until she was desperate for air, then she went up and waited for the next wave, ready to do it again.

Hermione plunged into the depths of the ocean a second time, allowing her mind to go blank…pain and fear were non-existent here, she could only feel the ice-cold water, letting it numb her…

Suddenly, something latched onto her arm. She screamed but no sound came out, only a flurry of bubbles escaped her mouth.

Moments later Hermione crashed through the surface of the ocean and gasped for air, turning frantically to see what had attacked her.

Draco's face loomed before hers. "What are you doing?!" he shouted. "Are you trying to kill yourself?"

"Of course not!" Hermione yelled, shocked. "Let go of me!"

She saw the Dragomir floating a short distance away.

"Did you jump off the ship?" she asked, incredulous.

Draco scoffed at her. "Had to, didn't I? Seeing as you've completely lost your mind."

Hermione dug her elbow into his stomach.

Draco cursed loudly and released her.

She swam towards shore, knowing he wouldn't be able to follow her back to the tents.

"I just wanted to know if you were alright!" he called after her. "I heard about Weasley."

Hermione stopped swimming. "What did you say?"

"I said, I heard about Weasley. Nikola told me. I'm sorry."

Hermione shut her eyes. He had completely ruined her peace now. "Since when do you care about Ron?" she shouted over the roar of the waves. "You've always hated him…just like you hated me at Hogwarts, and Harry. Go back to the ship, Draco."

He stared at her dumbfounded, all the progress he'd made with her was tumbling down.

"I'm not going to let you do this," he said, moving closer to her.

"Do what?!"

"Blame me for everything that's happened."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't be stupid."

They had reached shallow water and she was able to step again. She turned away from him, eager to get away.

"You're in love with Weasley, is that it? That's why you're acting like this—"

Hermione laughed in exasperation. "I can't do this with you."

"Do what?" Draco reached for her, and soon his hands were around her waist.

Her back was to him, but she could imagine the burning look in his eyes…the one he used to disarm her…time and time again.

He put his lips to her ear. "Do _what_ , Hermione?"

He spun her around to face him. She looked up. Beads of water ran down his face. His hair was slick, and wet. His lips were parted…seducing her…drawing her in.

She didn't want to feel this way for him. His family had Ron captive, and Ginny's words weighed heavily on her mind: _I have a bad feeling about him, Hermione. You should be careful._

But her pulse quickened at their closeness all the same. She wanted to reach out and touch him, trust him, but did she really know him at all?

After everything they had been through, would Malfoy really betray her?

"You don't get to pick your family, Hermione," Draco said, tightening his hold on her waist. "And you can't decide who you fall in love with either."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat.

Draco's lips found hers, and the kiss lit a fire inside her, consuming her, until she could no longer think of anything else but him…the warmth of his body, the weight of his words and the ache her heart.

A wave crashed over them, and they were pulled under.

Hermione's hair floated up around her, and she circled her arms around Draco's neck.

She thought she could stay submerged with him forever, hidden from the world…

But she knew it was impossible.

When they resurfaced, Draco led her to shore, taking care to stay close to the water's edge.

"I can't step any further," he said, remembering the invisible barrier. "Stay with me?"

Hermione nodded.

They kissed each other again and stumbled back, falling onto the sand.

They were breathless, dizzy, unable to stop now that they had started.

Draco removed his shirt, his trousers, then focused his attention on Hermione. He paused on the buttons of her blouse.

She nodded, waiting...

With skilled hands Draco removed Hermione's clothes, then what remained of his own.

Hermione drew a shaky breath, trying to calm her thundering heart.

Draco moved over her, and she sighed when his bare skin touched hers.

She liked the weight of him on top of her. She slid her hands up his strong arms, and remembered all the times he'd carried her or lifted her out of harm's way, held her…

She wrapped her legs around his waist, and Draco ran his tongue along her neck.

She moaned softly.

But it wasn't enough. She wanted to be closer to him. She ran her hands along his back, and pushed her hips up.

He groaned, digging his fingers into her waist.

He rolled his hips against hers, and her mouth fell open.

"I want to hear you say it," he said hoarsely.

"Say what?" she breathed, as he laced his fingers through hers.

"That you'll always remember this, remember me…no matter what happens."

Hermione took Draco's hand and pressed it to her her lips, trembling. _Was he afraid of dying, of not surviving the war?_

"I will," she said, kissing his fingertips. "I promise."

She gasped as she felt him push inside her.

He was careful with her, taking care not to go too fast.

She felt a building pressure and then a stinging kind of pain. She closed her eyes and buried her face into his neck, losing herself in him.

As the waves crashed onto shore, she realized that she was losing her virginity to Draco Malfoy, a Death Eater, and the son of one of Voldemort's closest followers.

Her nails dug into his back and she looked up at the star-filled sky, vaguely aware that they were making love on the edge of an invisible barrier, a barrier that was meant to separate them. A barrier that said she was on the right side and he was on the wrong one.

And she had crossed it without a second thought…and she was _glad_.

They weren't like Catherine and Tom. They were different…

Draco kissed her again.

They were falling into a rhythm now, and Hermione's eyes lost focus.

She never felt more alive than she did now, caught between pleasure and pain. She and Draco belonged to each other. It was something that had no logic or reason. She remembered his stolen glances at her in the halls of Hogwarts, the way his grey eyes lingered on her face, betraying him. Deep down, she knew it would always be this way.

Where it would lead them she did not know.

Either to ruin or bliss time would tell…

But for this moment, they had each other, and she knew that long after the war was over…she would always remember this night.

***

Hermione woke hours later with Draco lying asleep next to her. It was near dawn. She shook the sand from her hair and searched for her clothes.

Some distance away she spotted the crew on the deck of the Dragomir, working to repair the magical barrier. She guessed the ship would be ready in a few day's time.

"Will you come with me?" she asked Draco when he woke, telling him of her mission to Spain and what she had to do there.

Draco nodded and kissed her hand. "Of course. I'll help you with whatever you need."

Hermione smiled at him.

Draco felt sick with himself. A part of him hoped she'd insist on leaving him behind, that she'd realize he was leading her into a trap.

Instead, Hermione lay on his chest and told him of her plans, unaware that she was whispering into the ear of a snake.

He didn't know how long they lay there, but he avoided looking Hermione directly in the eye, lest she see the lies written on his face come morning.

***

Days later the ship was ready and Hermione said goodbye to Ginny. There was a lack of warmth in her embrace. Something had changed between them.

Ginny didn't trust Draco, and now she didn't trust her. It didn't help that she'd gotten back to the tent late every night, with her hair disheveled and her cheeks flushed. Ginny had said nothing, but it was clear that she felt betrayed.

"We'll see each other again, Ginny. I promise."

"You shouldn't make promises you can't keep," she said stiffly.

Hermione nodded at her, fighting back tears. Ginny was hurting now, but in time she'd come around. At least in Étretat she was out of harm's way.

Hermione thanked her French hosts, then followed Nikola on board the ship.

Draco was waiting for her.

They pulled away from the coast, making their way to the distant shores of Spain.

Hermione leaned against Draco's chest, watching as Étretat grew smaller and smaller in the distance.

"I've been thinking a lot about something," Hermione said.

Draco looked at her curiously. "What is it?"

She turned to face him.

"Dumbledore's final words… _Catherine lives, and she's closer than you know_."

"You don't think it's true, do you?" Draco asked.

"No," Hermione said slowly. "I think Catherine's dead. I think Dumbledore meant something else entirely."

Draco was silent, waiting.

Hermione took a deep breath. "I think he meant to say that a part of her lives on…"

Draco frowned. "But her son died too."

"I don't think Dumbledore was talking about her son."

"Who then?"

"The day Catherine gave birth, she was acting very strangely."

Draco nodded."You said the baby came early, and she had a difficult time. It's natural that she'd be out of sorts."

"Yes, but what if that day, while Tom was away at St. Mungo's trying to get help…Catherine gave birth to not _one_ child, but two?"

A chill ran up Draco's spine. "Another son?"

Hermione shook her head. "Dumbledore said, _she_ lives on _,_ remember?"

Draco's eyes widened. "A daughter…"

Hermione nodded. "A daughter…a daughter that Voldemort never knew existed."


	13. Chapter 13

**Greymoor Castle**

"Severus, please...my boys—they've done nothing wrong."

Fred and George were chained to the wall behind them.

Ron was kept in a cell all his own. He was pale and weak, his eyes bruised, his jaw slack.

Molly was lying on the floor, reeling from the after effects of the cruciatus curse.

"Your sons aided Harry Potter—"

"It's not true!" Molly cried. "No one but Dumbledore knew—"

The door of the dimly lit dungeon swung open and Bellatrix Lestrange walked in.

She looked like she had just emerged from battle.

She wore a long, tattered black dress. It had blood stains on the sleeves and collar. Her hair was wild, her eyes bottomless pools of black, her fingernails were long and curling inwards.

"Have the blood traitors confessed?" she asked.

Snape dipped his head forward, bowing slightly. "They maintain their innocence. They claim they know nothing of Harry Potter or his whereabouts."

"Then you are not torturing them _well_ enough."

She looked at the Weasley's with disgust, then dropped her voice to a whisper, raising an eyebrow at Snape. "It has been _weeks_ , and still no word from Draco or his progress with the mudblood. The Dark Lord is losing patience, he will kill Narcissa—"

"I am certain Draco will make contact soon," Snape replied calmly.

"One of these _pathetic_ fools is hiding something," Bellatrix said shrewdly, looking at the Weasley's. "And I will make them _speak_."

She walked towards them, and the heels of her boots echoed in the dungeon.

Snape stared at the dungeon walls.

The Dark Lord had tired of Malfoy Manor and seen fit to move his operation here...to Greymoor Castle—the macabre home of Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange.

It did not surprise him.

The Dark Lord saw wealth as a tool to buy allies, weapons, and expand his army, not to indulge in expensive whims or fancies.

Malfoy Manor was too lavish, too comfortable.

And Voldemort felt more at home in the dark.

Snape's upper lip curled.

Nothing was as it appeared here. No door led to the same place twice, rooms flipped upside down as you walked through them, large spaces shrank at a moment's notice, spells rebounded and hit their casters…Greymoor Castle was the design of two mad architects...

Snape saw Molly attempt to stand, and he conjured ropes to restrain her.

Bellatrix walked between the Weasley twins, observing them closely.

She stroked Fred's cheek, her breath fanning his face. "This one's a bit more handsome than his twin, wouldn't you say Severus?"

"I hadn't noticed," Snape said dryly.

Bellatrix turned to Fred, smiling at him madly, her dress swishing around her ankles. "Perhaps you'd prefer more comfortable arrangements…upstairs….with me. All you have to do is tell me one, little, thing…"

Fred's jaw twitched. He looked at his brother. He knew he would pay for what he said next...but he didn't care.

"Ugly, isn't she, George?"

"Worse than a troll, Fred."

"No, I think more like a banshee—"

"Boys!" Molly hissed, terror in her eyes.

Fred leaned in close to Bellatrix. "Truth be told, I'd rather die mauled to death by some terrible beast than spend the night with the likes of _you_."

There were several seconds of dreadful silence.

"Well…" Bellatrix said, her smile still frozen in place, "fortunately, that can be arranged..." She looked at the small window above them. "There's a full moon tonight, you see?"

She laughed shrilly, turning to look at Ron.

The light from the window lit up his face and Molly and the twins waited with bated breath, dreading what was to come.

Nothing happened at first.

Then Ron doubled over in pain.

His chest rose and fell at an abnormally rapid rate.

He pounded his fists against the stone walls, trying to maintain control for a few moments longer...

But it was no use. He screamed in agony as his body started to change. Molly watched in horror as his bones snapped and lengthened, his limbs shook, his back hunched over…he made a terrible snarling noise…

Bellatrix turned to Fred.

"Perhaps you'd like to keep your brother company…in his cell."

"No!" Molly cried, hot tears spilling down her face.

Bellatrix spun to face her, livid with rage.

"WHY DO YOU WEEP, WHEN YOU ARE THE ONE WHO HAS WRONGED THE DARK LORD?!"

She turned to Snape."DO IT!"

Snaped flicked his wand and the chains binding Fred fell away.

The cell opened of its own accord.

Snape seized Fred by the neck, and the color drained from his face as he was thrust inside.

The door clanged shut.

Fred scrambled to the far corner of the cell. Ron was sprouting hair on his face and hands now, and his teeth were soon replaced by long, pointed jaws.

The sound of Bellatrix's laughter drowned out Molly's pleas.

George looked at his brothers in horror, realizing what would happen if Fred remained trapped in a cell with Ron. He twisted left and right, trying to free himself from his chains.

Bellatrix walked forward. She rested her arms against the bars of the cell. She ran her tongue along her lower lip, anticipating the smell of blood.

"Tell me, Molly," Bellatrix said without looking behind her. "Was it worth sacrificing the life of your sons, to love _Potter_ as one of your own?"

Fred watched as Bellatrix reached inside her cloak. She pulled out her favorite dagger. She spun the pointed weapon in her hand, then tossed it to him.

He looked up at her, confused.

Her eyes gleamed with excitement. "I want you to have a fair fight you see…in this duel of brother against brother."

Bellatrix turned to Molly and a wicked smile distorted her features. "I do believe one of your sons will die tonight."

***

"The situation in Britain is deteriorating," Nikola told Hermione, as the Dragomir docked in the seaside city of San Sebastián. "The Order reports Voldemort has found a new way to bend the laws of magic."

"How?" Hermione asked, aghast.

Draco was standing next to them, looking over the railing. It was old news to him, but he gathered the Order had finally proven their competence and discovered something useful.

"Voldemort can extinguish a wizard's magic. He targets any who are against him. The curse upsets the connection of wizard and wand, wand and core. He replaces himself as the core, and the wand's loyalty is to him. But that is only the start. Loss of the wand's loyalty only serves to subdue the witch or wizard until—"

Nikola paused, trying to find the words to explain. "Over time, the magic you have vithin you, in your blood…becomes less and less, until there is nothing left of your abilities. And vunce your magic is gone, it can never be returned."

Draco raised an eyebrow, so he _didn't_ know everything. He thought the curse ended with the control of a witch or wizard's wand...

Nikola spoke again. "However, it seems Voldemort struggles with striking large groups of wizards at one time with the curse. There was a battle in the Isle of Skye. The Magical Alliance suffered great losses. A quarter of their army couldn't perform magic. Many of them died, and the few who survived vill never perform magic again. They vill live as muggles for the rest of their lives."

"A quarter of their army?" Hermione repeated, disbelieving.

Nikola nodded. "Voldemort hasn't perfected the curse, but if he finds a way...it will be catastrophic. The crew and I vill wait for you here, while you go on to Segovia. We need the Arévalos to join us now more than ever. We need to stop Voldemort before he perfects the curse. Our agent in Segovia, Calatrava, is waiting for you. He will host you in his home and take you to the Arévalos."

Hermione nodded. Segovia was over a hundred miles away from the coast.

She and Draco would need to apparate. Nikola suggested they take a portkey instead, in the event that Voldemort and his network of spies attempted to trace them.

But Hermione refused to take a portkey. The last time Harry had taken a portkey, he was transported to a graveyard and Cedric had died.

Hermione doubted Voldemort could locate them. The ministry had fallen, and while the trace was still on them, their movements could only be monitored in Britain. If nothing else, Dumbledore had explained as much to her before she agreed to take part in the mission.

Hermione packed her clothes, throwing them into a rucksack, and disembarked from the ship with Malfoy. They walked a good distance away from the port, and then, when there were no muggles nearby, they clasped hands and disappeared into thin air.

***

The sun was setting in the centuries old town of Segovia.

Hermione and Draco found themselves standing in front of an old gothic cathedral in the town square.

The air was rife with ancient magic. The weather was warm, and the heavy clothes the Bulgarians had given them seemed out of place here, suffocating them.

"We look ridiculous," Draco muttered under his breath, taking note of the odd looks people were giving them.

There was hardly anyone left in the square. Just a few stragglers headed home.

They waited an hour before a man appeared wearing a heavy, black cloak.

The town square was empty now, and complete darkness had fallen.

Draco reached for his wand, but Hermione seized his arm.

"Wait, I think it's—"

The man stepped closer. He was thin and balding. He had thick eyebrows, an aquiline nose, and dark eyes.

"Señorita Granger?" he asked, in a thick Spanish accent.

Hermione nodded.

He dipped his head. "I am Mr. Calatrava. Your host."

"It's nice to meet you," Hermione said. She turned to Draco. "This is my—my friend, Draco Malfoy."

"You must follow me," said Calatrava, motioning for them to follow him. "It is not wise to speak outside, where wandering ears can hear. How are we to know what lurks in the shadows?"

***

Draco turned to Hermione as they walked down the cobblestoned streets.

"Are you sure this man will help us?"

"He's the Order's agent in Spain," Hermione whispered. "Nikola said he lived in England for a time…working for Dumbledore."

"Yes, but what if he's working for the Arévalos now? I've heard stories about them, they're ruthle—"

"Shh," Hermione hissed, afraid Calatrava would hear.

They stopped in front of an old house made of stone with a high pointed roof.

Mr. Calatrava flicked his wand and the door swung open. They followed him inside.

"Your bedrooms are upstairs. I've also taken the liberty of buying you new clothes."

He looked at their heavy Bulgarian coats. "The weather is not so cold here."

Behind him was a kitchen and a dining room. There was a cauldron bubbling over a fire, and a table set for three.

"We're not very hungry," said Draco.

Hermione turned to him. "We should eat something."

"It is not poisoned, I can assure you," said Calatrava dryly, looking at Draco through narrowed eyes.

He looked away, realizing the old wizard had overheard them.

Calatrava gestured to the table.

Draco and Hermione pulled out chairs, sitting opposite from each other.

Calatrava served dinner, then sat at the head of the table.

He poured a glass of red wine for each of them, then turned to Hermione.

"The Arévalos have been informed of your presence. Their leader, Sebastián, has agreed to meet with you at the old Alcazar palace. He is organizing a masque in your honor."

"A masque?" Hermione repeated in disbelief. "That's—that's completely unnecessary. There's a war going on, this isn't the time for—for—celebrations," she finished lamely.

"Unfortunately, Ms. Granger, you will have to attend," Calatrava replied. "It is the way things are done here."

Draco raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"When?" Hermione asked.

"Tomorrow, at nightfall."

"Well I have nothing suitable to wear for such an event," she said pointedly, as if that would release her from the predicament.

"I have taken care of that," said Calatrava patiently. "Everything you need is in your room."

"We look forward to the masque," Draco said calmly, hoping the conversation would turn to Potter.

" _We_?" Calatrava asked. "I am afraid you are mistaken, Mr. Malfoy. The Arévalos requested to meet the Señorita Granger alone."

Draco shook his head. "That's out of the question."

"The terms are non-negotiable," said Calatrava. "The Arévalos were very clear. It is fortunate for us they have agreed to meet at all."

"It's fine," Hermione interrupted, turning to Draco. "Maybe after I've spoken with them—"

Draco's eyes narrowed. "What assurances do we have, that they won't harm her?"

"We don't," said Calatrava. "I am only a messenger," he added, taking note of the murderous look Draco was giving him.

"How was Harry Potter, when you saw him last?"

Calatrava didn't flinch. "Tired, but well. Determined." He turned to Hermione. "He spoke much of you, Señorita Granger. I can see why he valued you."

"You speak in the past tense," Malfoy said. "As if he's no longer—"

"Draco!" Hermione warned.

"I speak in the past tense because I have not seen Mr. Potter in weeks," Calatrava said simply. "That is all."

The Spaniard drained the last of his wine before leaning forward.

"Working for the Order puts me at risk with the Arévalos. Their tempers, loyalties and passions can change in an instant."

He turned to Hermione. "They are fickle. You will have to charm and enchant them, especially their leader, Sebastián. Many of them are hundreds of years old. They've seen it all…countless rebellions, plagues and wars." He paused. "We may be wizards, but we are mortal. The Arévalos will still be here, long after we're gone. You need to make them see how _this_ war is different from the others..."

Calatrava cleared his throat before going on. "It is already a good sign that Sebastián has taken an interest in you. Maybe that was—is the work of Mr. Potter. The Arévalos won't want to hear talk of strategy or morality. They want to be entertained. And for some reason they find you intriguing. You are, after all, considered the greatest witch of your age."

Hermione's breath caught. Dumbledore had only ever told her that. She did not know he'd said the same to others. It seemed he had created a reputation for her abroad.

Draco raised an eyebrow, he did not like the sound of this at all.

But Hermione looked determined, focused.

"Thank you, Mr. Calatrava for your hospitality and your advice."

He nodded at her, raising his glass. "To your success, Ms. Granger."

***

Hermione went upstairs. Draco stayed below, arguing with Calatrava. She heard their muffled voices through her closed door. She opened her rucksack, pulling out the book from the Founder's Chambers. She glanced down at the cover, and traced her fingers over the words that had formed there: _Hogwarts, A True History_.

It was clear that the book preserved important moments that had occurred at Hogwarts. And Hermione was sure that it held more secrets, like the vision she'd had during the battle...someone had attacked the castle during the time of the Founders...

Draco had asked her to leave the book aboard the Dragomir, but she couldn't...

 _It's cursed_ , he'd said. _It distracts you. It'll get you killed…_

Hermione flipped through the book. It was empty again, and no ink appeared on its pages.

She sighed, then changed into her night clothes and climbed into bed, stuffing the book under her pillow so Draco wouldn't see.

Her thoughts drifted to the Arévalos, and moments later her eyes closed and everything faded away…

But she was not falling asleep.

Instead, she was falling into the past, once more…

***

Hermione walked down a dark, deserted corridor. Something told her she was at Hogwarts, but nothing looked as she remembered it.

She waited for her eyes to adjust in the dark, then she heard the sound of laughter.

There was a young couple kissing in an alcove. Students, Hermione guessed, out after hours.

"Charles quiet, or we'll wake the castle," said the girl.

"Don't worry, no one will find us here. Anne, I promise, it's just the two of us."

Their clothes looked like they were from another time. The girl was wearing a beautiful dress made of velvet, with long, billowing sleeves. She wore a headdress embroidered with pink flowers, and the boy wore a tunic embellished with gold thread.

Hermione took in her surroundings. Everything looked new. There were hardly any portraits on the walls. There was scaffolding, unfinished corridors, half-constructed stairs….

The castle looked like a blank canvas waiting to be filled.

Excitement flooded through her veins. Perhaps now she would see what had happened all those years ago…in the times of the Founders.

There was the distant sound of shouting.

"Did you hear that?" the girl asked.

"Shh," the boy replied, kissing her neck. "Probably the muggle servants arguing again—"

There was a bloodcurdling scream.

The young couple froze.

"Pleeeease!" shouted a distant voice.

It sounded like a fight had broken out downstairs.

The young couple ran across the corridor and leaned over a balustrade.

"Oh my god," Anne whispered.

Students had been dragged from their beds.

A group of men were threatening them, armed with swords.

One of the girls tried to run away, but a man held her back. He plunged his sword into her stomach.

Anne screamed in horror. Charles covered her mouth with his hand.

"Quiet," he hissed. "Or they'll come after us next."

"Why aren't they fighting back?" Anne whispered, looking down at the students. "They're wands—"

"Don't you see? This is a rebellion. Those men aren't wizards, they're muggles. Our very own servants. They stole their wands in the middle of the night. And now they're sacking the place."

The men were taking chests of galleons from the rooms, along with other precious items. Others were setting fire to curtains and beds.

"We have to get out of the castle," said Charles.

They ran in the opposite direction, and fled down a corridor, stopping in front of a large tapestry.

Charles yanked it aside and they rushed down a set of stairs. They emerged into a corridor, but the young couple screamed when someone came flying at them.

"Mary?" Anne asked, horrified.

A girl in blood-stained clothes had latched onto her arm.

"The muggle servants, they took our wands while we slept. I couldn't stop them…"

"Where are your sisters?"

The young girl turned to look behind her. A door was left ajar.

Anne and Charles hurried towards it, pulling it open.

Anne felt bile rise in her throat. There were two girls lying in their beds, their necks slashed, blood spilling onto the sheets.

"You managed to escape?" Charles asked, turning to the younger girl. "Did they hurt you?"

She shook her head. "I think they're after the Founders."

The walls shook violently. A large battering ram had struck the front doors of the castle.

The three teenagers stood stock still.

"The villagers," said Charles. "They want us dead too."

Anne's blood ran cold. She suspected the muggles had bided their time, planning the attack for months.

"We should go up to one of the towers," she said. "We can fly—"

Charles shook his head. "They'll have sentries there, waiting for us. They know every passage, every entrance. There's only two of us with wands."

Anne struggled to breathe, trying to think…

Charles spoke again. "Stay inside and barricade the door. If anyone tries to get in, stun them, or kill them if you have to."

Anne's eyes went wide with fear. "Charles, don't leave me here."

"I need to find the headmasters."

He moved towards the door.

"Charles, no!"

He shut the door behind him and made his way back to the hidden passage.

He tore up the steps and almost lost his footing when he crashed into someone.

"Charles!"

"Beldon!"

Charles seized the boy's shoulders, grateful he had run into a fellow student, and not one of the rebels.

"Do you still have your wand?"

"Yes, I never went to bed."

"We have to move, come on."

They made their way up the stairs, then Charles shouted, "Watch out!"

They were attacked by a group of five men. The tallest of them swung his sword at Beldon.

He jumped back and raised his wand.

The boys shot stunning spells and curses, killing two of their attackers.

As soon as they were free, they ran in the opposite direction.

Hermione followed them through countless corridors and secret passages, until finally, they reached the seventh floor.

A wizard rushed towards them. He had olive skin and thick, black hair.

"Sir! Sir!" Shouted Beldon.

"Do you still have your wands?"

"Yes, sir."

"Follow me."

The man walked past a painting of a golden unicorn, and opened a set of large, oak doors.

Hermione recognized the room. It was furnished now with lavish tapestries, tables and chests.

But much of the furniture in the Founder's Chambers had been turned over, plates of gold and jewelry lay scattered all over the floor...

A woman was gripping onto the arm of a chair, struggling to stand.

"They tried to sack the place," she said. "They took us by surprise, but I cursed a good number of them before they—"

She doubled over and coughed up blood. She was badly wounded.

Hermione realized this was the aftermath of the vision she'd seen at Hogwarts weeks ago, when she, Draco, and the others had tried to escape. Men had burst through the oak door, carrying torches, intent on killing…

"Salazar," the woman said, clutching onto his robes. "Where were you?"

Hermine looked closely at the man again. _Salazar Slytherin_. She hadn't recognized him at first. All the portraits at Hogwarts showed him in his later years. He looked no older than thirty now.

"I've only just arrived from Aberdeen, Godric is still there, trying to negotiate with the clans. There's been another uprising. Where is Rowena?"

"They took her, dragged her away…"

Salazar helped the woman stand, and the light from the candlesticks lit up her face. Hermione recognized her now too.

Helga spoke again. "They took my wand…they've killed so many…"

Slytherin stared at the witch, realizing she would die if her wounds weren't tended to. But he didn't have the time to heal her. If he stayed by her side, the situation outside would only get worse...

He made a decision, handing Helga his wand.

"Take care of yourself. I'm going to put an end to this."

The witch's eyes widened. "You can't go out unarmed."

Salazar pulled a sword from the suit of armor behind him. "I don't need a wand to stop this madness."

He nodded to Charles and Beldon who were waiting by the door. They followed him, flanking his sides.

They hurried down the corridor until they reached the balustrade that looked down to the entrance hall below.

Salazar extended his arms.

The boys exchanged glances, hesitating, but they swallowed their fear and took hold of his wrists.

Hermione gasped as Salazar and the boys shot high into the air.

They were _flying,_ or rather Salazar was flying and pulling the boys along with him.

They floated for a moment, then dropped down slowly.

Hermione looked over the railing. They were floating down to the entrance hall, their cloaks billowing out behind them.

Suddenly, an invisible force lifted her up too.

Hermione was forcibly reminded of Cho and she panicked. Her legs flailed around her and her heart beat violently as she caught a glimpse of the ground below.

She reminded herself that this was only a memory. She could not fall to her death, could she?

Students were dueling with whatever they could find, attacking the muggles with swords and spears they'd taken from the suits of armor…some of the older students and staff were fighting back with wandless magic…

In the middle of the chaos stood a man in a hooded cloak.

He was holding a sword. Rowena Ravenclaw lay at his feet, her clothes drenched with blood...

"Rowena!" shouted Salazar, as his feet hit solid ground.

Charles and Beldon landed behind him. They blasted curses left and right, hitting several muggles, making way for Salazar amidst the battle.

He rushed at the hooded man.

"Stop there!" the man warned. "Or I'll finish her!"

Salazar shook with fury. "WE TOOK YOU IN! WE TRUSTED YOU!" He looked down at Rowena."IF SHE DIES—"

"You care for her so _deeply_ ," said the hooded man. "And yet, she does not not love you."

Salazar brandished his sword.

Hermione moved back, watching the two men circle each other, Rowena's body lying between them.

"Her loyalty is to Godric. _Everyone_ knows it but you. She will never look at you as she looks at him. But your soul can be saved. Leave this life of sin and wickedness. Be as you were _before_ Salazar _."_

"You are deluded if you think you hold any sway over me," said Salazar. "My debt to you was paid long ago. And you care nothing for my soul."

The muggle man did not waver. "Then you will burn in hell."

They heard screams. Several of the muggles had been blasted back by a powerful curse.

Hermione spun around.

A tall wizard with a long, brown beard had stormed through the front doors of the castle.

The students gasped. "It's Godric...he's back..."

The tall wizard trained his wand upon the hooded man.

"Kill this traitor, Slytherin! What are you waiting for?! If you don't do it, I will!"

The hooded man laughed mirthlessly, turning to Salazar. " _Slytherin_ …is that truly the name you've fashioned for yourself? Are you so ashamed of your true origins, of your _real_ family? Salazar…always the liar, always the coward…"

And suddenly Hermione saw everything from Salazar's point of view. She felt rage course through her veins as she seized the hooded man's cloak, dragging him forward. Her hands closed around his neck.

She spoke, trapped within Salazar's body. "You're the only coward I see here. All my life, you've been a snake…dripping poison into my ear…but no more…"

The hood fell from the man's face, but just as his countenance was revealed, Hermione's vision swam, and the entrance hall faded away. Her hands were still seizing someone, but it was not the hooded man…

She was screaming.

Malfoy stared down at Hermione.

The color had drained from her face. Her eyes were wide. She looked possessed.

Draco winced as she put her lips to his ear, her voice a low hiss. "You betrayed me, but you will not ruin me, or provoke the death of my friends."

Draco's blood chilled. The feeling left his body. _She had discovered him_. She knew he was working for Voldemort.

He heard footsteps on the stairs, and realized Calatrava was coming up.

His heart accelerated, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Founder's book stuffed under Hermione's pillow. It took a few seconds for his brain to make the connection. Slowly, painfully, he drew in a long, shaky breath. She had fallen into the past again. She was _not_ speaking to him, but to someone else...

The door flew open. Calatrava stood at the entrance.

He saw Hermione writhing, and Draco struggling to calm her.

"She's had a bad dream," Malfoy said quickly. "She'll be fine."

Hermione's voice trembled as she came to. "I'm sorry Draco," she said, loosening her hold on his neck. "I thought—I thought you were someone else…"

Calatrava raised an eyebrow. "She cannot make such a display in front of the Arévalos. Perhaps we should postpone—"

"She will be ready," Draco insisted. "It was only a bad dream. Leave us."

Calatrava hesitated by the door, then closed it.

"I thought I told you to leave the book on the Dragomir," Draco hissed.

"It's too important," Hermione said. "I couldn't leave it behind."

"What did you see?"

Hermione shook her head, she was too exhausted to explain now.

Draco crawled into bed next to her, pulling her close, murmuring soothing words into her ear.

Hermione cried into his chest, muttering an apology for having attacked him.

Draco stroked her back, lost in thought.

He had to get rid of the book. So far the blasted thing had unveiled events that had happened decades or centuries ago. But what if it showed the _recent_ past?

What if it let Hermione witness the conversations he'd had with Pansy and Theo at Hogwarts? Or all the evenings he'd spent writing coded letters to his father?

No, he couldn't allow that...

He had to ensure the book was gone by morning.

***

Hermione had the unmistakable feeling she was chasing ghosts. Catherine….the Founders…even Harry. She began to wonder if he was still alive. She had no clear answers, only more questions. She was sure everything she'd learned was connected somehow, but the strain of going over it in her mind, time and time again, was destroying her.

She didn't rise from bed the whole night or the following day.

She woke just before nightfall, in time to meet the Arévalos.

Her eyes were still closed, but she reached up behind her, trying to feel for the book…wanting to find answers in its pages.

A hand closed on her wrist and her eyes shot open.

"Vampires have a heightened sense of awareness, Hermione. They can taste your fear, your panic, your dread. You can't let them in."

Her eyes adjusted in the dark and she saw Draco lying next to her.

"I know," she said, looking into his face.

"Keep your mind on the present. Stop going off to wherever it is you go. Be here with me…now…"

Draco's lips closed over hers and he kissed her softly. She welcomed his touch, knowing that he would keep her nightmares at bay.

Draco leaned over her, letting his hand slide along her thigh, pushing her nightdress up.

Hermione glanced at the door. "Calatrava…he'll hear us…"

"Who cares," he said thickly.

Draco lifted her dress as high as it would go and trailed kisses down her bare stomach.

Hermione's eyes glazed over, and she thought that maybe she should stop him, tell him what she'd seen in the book. He didn't understand how important it was. Maybe he could help her figure it out…

Draco's lips trailed down her body, then he ran his tongue along her inner thigh, and her legs trembled slightly.

She swallowed, closing her eyes.

"Draco," she said, weakly. "I—"

She gasped as she felt his head drop between her legs. She reached down, threading her fingers into his hair. She bit down on her lip, trying to remember what she wanted to tell him…

A jolt of pleasure shot through her…

Her eyes flew open and she stared up at the ceiling, watching the way the shadows moved across the room.

She struggled to breathe, trying to ride the wave of pleasure so she could find her words again. But she never did.

Her eyes lost focus and her mind went blank.

Draco watched Hermione unravel...

He knew he could make her forget her precious book.

***

Hermione gazed up at the Alcazar of Segovia. Malfoy and Calatrava stood on either side of her.

She was dressed in a long, elegant, midnight blue ball gown.

The air was warm. The castle was perched on a huge bedrock. It had slate roofs and blue-gray turrets that shone in the moonlight. The front of the castle was shaped like the bow of a ship.

She recognized it all too well. It was the palace she'd seen in her dreams all those months ago. And it was always the same dream. Harry looking down into a well…Harry moving down a set of dark stairs, beckoning her to follow him…Harry attacked by a figure in the dark, struck by Voldemort's new killing curse…

She always asked herself the same question. Had she seen the past? Was Harry already dead? Or had she seen the future? Or maybe it was just a dream…or maybe _someone_ was tampering with her mind, torturing her bit by bit, until she lost her sense of reality…

"Let me go with you," Malfoy insisted.

Calatrava glared at him. "For the last time, she must go alone."

Hermione turned to Draco. "I brought you to Segovia to help me, not to make things more difficult."

Draco pulled her closer to him. "You have one hour. If you don't emerge in _one_ hour, I'm—"

"An hour's not nearly enough. You have to trust me. I'll be fine."

Draco wrapped his arms around Hermione. "Be careful," he whispered into her ear. "Remember everything I told you. The Arévalos play endless games, and they'll start from the moment you enter those doors."

Hermione broke away from Draco and faced the Alcazar once more. She squared her shoulders, and lifted her chin. She had to appear bold and confident, charming and alluring. Provocative even.

She was prepared to play her part...

The Alcazar doors opened of their own accord, and Hermione entered the castle alone.


	14. Chapter 14

Shadows, whispers, movement…

She knew they were there, but they moved too fast for her to see them.

Hermione felt something brush past her skirt. She whipped around and heard the ring of distant laughter.

"La bruja inglesa…no es muy ágil…"

"I can hear you!" she shouted into the darkness.

She had made it to the highest floor of the palace. She'd walked through empty rooms, and half-lit passages but they'd remain hidden all the while, challenging her...

Hermione's knuckles turned white as she gripped her wand tighter.

There had to be five or six of them.

"Hello?" Hermione called out into the darkness.

"La azotea, voz llevadla."

She shrieked as a pair of hands seized her waist.

She shot forward at breakneck speed, the walls on either side of her a blur. She was sure she and her captor were going to slam into the door in front of them, but it flung open of its own accord and they shot up a spiral staircase, her toes brushing the steps as they gathered speed.

Hermione felt a rush of wind. They were on the rooftop now.

"Put me down!" she shouted.

The vampire dug his nails into her skin before releasing her. She landed haphazardly on the ground, struggling for balance.

The vampire laughed and walked away from her, moving past an iron well.

Hermione froze. It was the same well she'd seen in her dreams all those months ago…

She looked around for Harry, but there was no sign of him.

Hermione observed the mountains that stretched across the horizon.

The peaks and valleys of the sierra resembled the body of a woman lying asleep...

She heard the door slam open and whipped around. A group of masked figures surrounded her. They pulled on her skirt, her earrings…laughing into her ear.

Hermione shoved them away and looked up.

More of them were arriving.

A flurry of figures were flying across the night sky, making a dive for the roof.

Hermione stepped back as the vampires landed in a swirling mass of black.

They were all wearing feathered masks, silks, long cloaks, and luxurious furs.

One of the female vampires stepped towards her. She was dressed in garish colors of yellow and orange, and she wore an extravagant Venetian mask.

She eyed Hermione critically.

" _Esta_ es la famosa inglesa? Parece una niña, una niña _bastante_ delicada…"

She reached for her neck.

"Play nice Magdalena," said a voice.

A man emerged from the shadows.

"My coven does not associate with many witches, Ms. Granger. I hope you will forgive their childish games."

The man removed his mask. Hermione gasped.

He had curly dark hair, deep set eyes, skin white as marble, and lustrous, golden eyes that seemed to see right through her. He was dressed in a silk waistcoat, narrowly fitted trousers, and an elegant silk cravat.

The male vampire stepped closer to her, and the high collar of his coat skimmed his jaw as he spoke.

"My name is Sebastián Arévalo. I am pleased to make your acquaintance."

Hermione tipped her head. "The pleasure is all mine."

Sebastián took her hand and kissed it, his lips lingering on her wrist. He turned it over, and his lips brushed her delicate skin.

"I have heard much of you from Mr. Potter," he said softly.

"Only good things I hope?" she said, resisting the urge to twist her arm away and demand he tell her where Harry was.

Sebastián stood upright again, smiling at her devilishly, unwilling to reveal more.

Hermione held her tongue. This was a game of chess, and she had to study the board and analyze the pieces before she made her first move.

Sebastián extended his arm out to her.

"This is only a meeting place. It is time for us to go."

Hermione thought of Draco, of how she didn't want to go alone…

Sebastián lifted a hand to her face. An electric current shot through her. There was a buzzing in her head and her muscles contracted as he pushed his way into her mind. It was unlike anything she had experienced before…a sort of legilimency only a vampire could perform.

The pain was excruciating.

She was tied to Sebastián by an invisible cord, unable to break her connection to him as he sifted through her mind.

Her most personal memories rose to the surface…

She was lying naked with Draco on the beach in Étretat, tracing the Dark Mark on his arm, wishing she could make it fade away…

Sebastián twisted her head to the left.

She was speaking with Nikola aboard the Dragomir...

He moved her again.

She was scanning the pages of the Founder's Book, looking for answers…

Sebastián's eyes bored into hers. She swallowed but she did not tremble.

She gasped as he broke the connection, her mind reeling.

"Your young friend must join us. Although I have to say I am surprised. The way Mr. Potter spoke of you—I thought your loyalty was to him."

"My loyalty _is_ to Harry."

He smiled at her. "If you say so."

Hermione bristled, but she remained silent.

"Magdalena, we must collect Ms. Granger's… _friend_."

Magdalena swooped away from the roof, no debt heading for the grounds.

Moments later she flew back up, Malfoy at her side.

The two landed unceremoniously on the rooftop and adjusted their cloaks.

Sebastián slipped an arm around Hermione's waist. His arm was strong as iron, and his lustrous hair shone in the moonlight.

Draco's jaw tightened as he observed her sudden closeness to the vampire, but he held his tongue.

The next second Hermione felt her feet lift off the ground. She stifled a scream as Sebastián flew higher, holding her tightly to his side.

Below them, Magdalena took Draco's arm. She and the other vampires whipped their cloaks around themselves, then spun high into the air, following Sebastián into the night sky.

***

They were soaring over a heavily wooded forest...the air was warm and the light wind ruffled Hermione's hair.

She braced herself as Sebastián made to land in the middle of a clearing.

Moments later her feet hit solid ground and she let out a breathy sigh of relief.

Sebastián's entourage lit the way with torches. He did not release his hold on Hermione's waist.

Suddenly, everyone stopped. There was an opening in the ground.

Magdalena moved to the front of the procession, and one of her friends held a torch aloft for her.

She gathered her skirts and cloak, and suddenly she was spinning like a top, a whirl of color in the dark forest. She dropped down and disappeared from view.

Many of the others did the same, and Hermione's palms began to sweat.

Sebastián dragged her forward. In the blink of an eye they were standing before the opening. Before Hermione could protest, the forest was spinning around her and they were falling down…

She screamed as they plummeted, her eyes screwed shut.

She expected a harsh landing, but instead they stopped in mid-air as if caught by a net, then drifted slowly to ground.

Hermione looked around her and her mouth fell open.

The room was large and cavernous…lavishly decorated.

There were black marble floors and gold chandeliers everywhere she looked. Elegant chaises, tapestries and silks adorned the place. To her left she saw a set of double doors that opened into a magnificent ballroom.

Draco landed beside her.

She exchanged looks with him.

The Arévalo's had built an underground palace. It appeared that this...was their true home.

Hermione watched Sebastián's entourage move into the ballroom. There had to be over a hundred vampires gathered inside.

"Traditions are important in Segovia, Ms. Granger," Sebastián said suddenly. "Your dress is lovely, but not suitable for this occasion. Magdalena will assist you in finding something more…appropriate."

Hermione gazed at him, suddenly self-conscious.

"And Enrique will assist you, Mr. Malfoy," Sebastián said, gesturing to a red-haired vampire on his left. He looked critically at Draco's robes.

Before Draco could protest Magdalena dragged Hermione away, and in the blink of an eye she was gone.

He tried not to panic, and followed Enrique down a narrow hall, tightening his grip on his wand, expecting some sort of trap. But the vampire only led him to a small room at the end of the hall.

He opened the door for him. It was exquisitely furnished, and there were several garments draped over a chaise at the back of the room.

"You are expected to return in twenty minutes," Enrique said curtly, then closed the door behind him.

Draco changed quickly. He did not trust the Arévalo's, and he didn't want to leave Hermione alone with them longer than was necessary.

A few minutes later he re-entered the hall.

He was dressed in a formal black coat with a velvet collar, a matching double-breasted waistcoat, knee-length tails, and black trousers.

Magdalena walked up behind him, smiling flirtatiously. "Well, don't you look dashing, Mr. Malfoy." She adjusted his collar. "Ms. Granger will be down in a moment."

She entered the ballroom and disappeared from view.

"I hope you haven't been waiting long," said a voice.

Draco turned.

Hermione was dressed in a tightly fitted, black brocade gown with gold thread. It had a plunging neckline, and a long, sumptuous train.

It was a flattering silhouette that hugged her body and accentuated her small waist. She wore a pair of elbow length gloves, and a black opal necklace.

Her eyes were lined with black, giving them a dark and alluring quality. Her lips were colored red, and her hair cascaded down her back in a wave of curls.

Draco's mouth fell open. "You look—you look—"

"Different?" Hermione supplied.

He raised an eyebrow. That was the understatement of the century.

Draco offered her his arm.

The doors opened.

They made their grand entrance into the ballroom. There was a soaring ceiling, crystal chandeliers, marble floors, gothic sculptures and candelabras on every table.

Fire breathers, aerial dancers, and men on stilts entertained the crowd, but Hermione felt every vampire turn to stare at them as they walked past. Draco took note of the way their eyes lingered on their necks and wrists…the only pulsing life in a sea of darkness.

There was a table at the front of the ballroom. Sebastián sat in the center, accompanied by Magdalena.

Hermione and Draco were invited to join them.

A group of men entered the ballroom carrying trays.

Food and wine were placed before Hermione and Draco, but the vampires had no plates in front of them, only tall glasses.

Large pitchers were set down, and Hermione's stomach turned when Magdalena pulled one close.

The pitchers were filled with blood, blood from the citizens of Segovia.

A guitar strummed.

Silence fell.

A dancer emerged, dressed in red. She walked boldly to the center of the room, and passed a glorious fountain made of marble and crystal. She ran her hand through the cascade of water and splashed the crowd with it.

They laughed and applauded her.

The dancer smiled deviously at Draco and Hermione. She moved her wrists in a circular motion, lifting her arms high above her head. There was tension in her hands…passion in her eyes…

To her left, Enrique emerged from the shadows and walked up behind her. He rested his arms on her shoulders, and his lips brushed the nape of her neck.

Color rushed the girl's face and she sighed. She was human, Hermione realized.

The girl and Enrique circled each other, moving away from the fountain.

Their heads were held high, their arms pulled back, their movements slow and calculated…

Sebastián leaned in to Hermione. "The dance is symbolic of the Spanish bullfight." He nodded at the girl in the red dress. "Constanza is a very gifted dancer."

The girl lunged forward and stretched her arms wide, gathering her skirt around her, sizing up her opponent.

Enrique took several steps forward, extending his arm out in front of him…

Sebastián nodded at him. "Enrique displays the pageantry of the matador…his grand entry into the bull ring."

"And the girl?" Hermione asked.

"Constanza represents the cape and at other times…the bull. They will engage in a decisive duel—"

Enrique stamped his foot. The impact rang throughout the ballroom.

Sebastián leaned into Hermione again. "The matador strikes the ground to capture the attention of his quarry."

Constanza took several steps forward, streaking past Enrique, then she flung her arms to one side, casting her head down.

Enrique approached her and seized her hand. She spun around to face him.

He slowly raised her arm and arched it over her head, as they took three steps to the left.

The music began to build.

"Venga!"

Sebastián stood and stamped his foot, bringing his palms together.

The other vampires rose and did the same.

They began to stomp and clap in unison.

"Join us!" Sebastián shouted, encouraging Hermione and Draco to do the same.

"Come on," Hermione whispered to Draco, pushing her chair back.

He raised an eyebrow at her, but followed her lead and rose from the table.

They moved their hands together in time to the music.

On the dance floor, Constanza threw Enrique a haughty look.

Her steps were strong and proud. His movements were sharp and quick.

They sidestepped each other then met back in the middle of the fountain.

Constanza placed her hand on Enrique's chest and charged forward.

He was compelled to take several steps back.

He clutched her hand and raised it high, holding it in place, then his hand moved to her elbow, and he spun her away from him.

Constanza clutched her face as she turned, an expression of rapture on her face.

She threw her skirt back and it flared around her like a cape.

They met again and danced side by side, stomping their feet in unison as the music surged.

Behind them, five other girls emerged from the shadows. From the color that rose in their faces, Hermione guessed that they were also human. The girls were soon joined by partners, highly skilled vampires ready to show off their talents. They enthralled the crowd with striking poses and dramatic footwork.

In the center of the floor, Enrique charged into Constanza, leading with his heels, and she kicked her legs back with each step, unwilling to be cornered.

They spun and dropped to the floor, each landing on bended knee, and lunged backwards.

The crowd was riveted, shouting words of encouragement to Enrique, the emblematic matador.

He stood.

Constanza threw her head back, and Enrique moved in front of her…sweeping his arm over her body like a sword.

Suddenly, Constanza dove forward. Enrique grabbed her waist and lifted her up. Her legs draped over his shoulder, and the tips of her toes pointed high into the air.

He displayed her to the crowd, a matador showing off his prowess, about to subdue his prey.

He lowered her down, so that she was kneeling in front of him. Constanza looked up into his eyes, running her hands along his thigh, as she rose up to face him once more.

He placed his hand on her neck, guiding her to spin underneath his arm. Their hands connected again, and they stepped to the side with sharp, staccato movements.

The music accelerated and Enrique's steps became more aggressive.

He was poised to kill...

He seized Constanza's shoulders. He flung her back and swung her to the left, then drew her up again, repeating the movement as they spun across the room.

The crowd was breathless.

The tempo picked up.

Enrique dropped Constanza's hand and charged at her.

He lanced his arm through hers like a sword, and the crowd gasped.

She arched her back, as if he had delivered the final, crushing blow.

She flung her arms to the heavens, spinning across the room, savoring her last moments of life.

She staggered, as if about to fall…

Enrique walked up behind her.

He turned, so that his back was pressed to hers. She leaned against him, and they linked arms as he lifted her up.

He took slow, deliberate steps forward with Constanza draped over his back.

Her feet were dragging along the floor...

Enrique was a proud matador, displaying his kill to the crowd.

The vampires cheered.

He set Constanza down and she was about to let herself fall gracefully to the floor, when there was a crescendo in the music.

Enrique rushed at her and seized her waist, and she let out a high-pitched shriek as they flew high above the ballroom, momentarily suspended in mid-air.

Her legs flailed as she looked down at the fountain below, panic rising in her face.

Suddenly, the couples dancing on the ground halted. The male vampires followed Enrique's lead and shot up into the air with their partners, stopping just above the fountain.

Hermione's heart froze in her chest.

Something in Enrique's eye's changed…Constanza saw it, but too late. He pressed his lips to her neck, and her eyes widened. She screamed as he bit down.

The music continued to build.

Enrique's eyes glazed over as he tasted her blood.

The other vampires did the same to the girls in their arms, and the force of their screams rivaled the power of the rising music.

Hermione's breathing ceased. Draco took hold of her hand. She desperately wanted to make it stop…

"Don't move," Draco whispered into Hermione's ear. Magdalena was watching them closely, a lurid grin on her face.

Eventually, the vampires pulled back from their victims.

The girls hung limp in their arms…there were terrible gashes along their necks…blood streamed from their lifeless bodies, falling spectacularly into the fountain below, coloring it red.

The vampires released the girls, letting them plummet to their death just as the music ended.

The crowd roared and cheered. Hermione inhaled sharply as the thunderous applause rang throughout the ballroom.

Sebastián left the table, his goblet in hand, nodding at the crowd.

Hermione watched him walk to the center of the room.

He dipped the goblet into the fountain, filling it with blood, and raised his glass in a toast, inviting the crowd to join him.

His eyes landed on Hermione and Draco.

"To our English friends." He tipped his head forward. "Welcome to Segovia."

He smiled at them as he drank.

Hermione felt like she was going to be sick, but she stared back at him with a cool and amused expression, as if it had all been a very entertaining display.

For all their beauty, grace and agility… the Arévalo's were still cold-blooded killers. And Hermione saw no artistry in killing.

But she still had a mission to accomplish. She knew full well the Arévalo's importance to the Order's interests. She would have to persuade them to join her cause, and more importantly, find out what had happened to Harry…

The other vampires were joining Sebastián on the dance floor, waiting for a new song to begin.

She looked over at Draco.

He looked like he could be one of them, with his pale skin and aristocratic features.

There was no tension in his face, only a mild interest in the scene before him.

His attitude unnerved her, but she knew he had seen similar spectacles at Malfoy Manor, when Voldemort had taken up residence in his father's home.

He was only trying to keep them alive…and she had to do the same. She could not break...

Sebastián approached their table.

"Will you join me on the dance floor, Ms. Granger?"

Hermione swallowed. Her legs trembled as she stood, but thankfully her long gown hid them from view. She placed her hand in Sebastián's outstretched palm, and walked around the table.

"You don't mind if I steal her away, do you, Mr. Malfoy?"

Sebastián glanced down at Draco, then without waiting for a reply, whisked Hermione away.

He led her to the center of the room and wrapped his arm around her waist.

Hermione placed her hand on his shoulder.

Sebastián smiled. "This next dance…requires a more intimate hold."

Hermione forced herself to appear confident.

"Does it?" she asked coyly.

Sebastián slipped a knee between her thighs.

"Indeed it does, Ms. Granger."

Hermione gathered her courage. She leaned away from him, exposing her neck.

She heard Sebastián inhale sharply.

Hermione looked slyly looking over her left shoulder, waiting for the music to begin.

Her gaze landed on Malfoy, sitting alone at the dining room table. His fingernails dug into the tablecloth, and his eyes were shooting daggers at Sebastián.

Next to him Magdalena leaned forward and reached for his arm, inviting him to dance.

Hermione looked away.

"The last dance you saw represented a duel to the death," said Sebastián, interrupting Hermione's thoughts. "This one is quite the opposite."

He ran a finger along her neck, tracing her veins.

"Do you feel up to it?"

Hermione looked at him, taking in his golden eyes and his self-assured smile.

"Of course," she said.

A violin played and they swayed to the side.

Hermione followed Sebastián's movements as he steered her across the floor. The slightest pressure at her waist told her where he wanted to go…left, right, then back again...

"Very good Ms. Granger," he said approvingly, testing her skill.

"I think we are ready for something more…colorful."

Sebastián spun her thrice. He pulled her to his chest and twisted her body left and right, guiding her by the waist, making her cross one foot in front of the other as he held her in place.

Hermione looked around her. The female vampires were swaying their hips, and making dramatic movements with their arms, looking at their partners with an insatiable hunger.

Sebastián opened his stance, and his hands slid up to Hermione's shoulders.

He pushed her down.

Her right foot slid between the gap in his legs. She dropped all the way down, her leg extended…

Sebastián seized her wrists and spun her across the floor like a compass.

The room was a dazzling blur, and she let herself feel the music, letting her tension fade away…

She let out a shaky breath when Sebastián pulled her back up, grasping onto the lapels of his coat to maintain her balance.

She was heady with wine. Exhilarated even.

He tightened his hold on her. "I won't let you fall, Ms. Granger."

He was highly skilled in his movements, and Hermione found that she enjoyed dancing with him even though she knew full well he could kill her in an instant, snap her neck before she ever drew her wand…

As Hermione looked around the room, she began to understand what it meant to survive in a world reigned by chaos.

A killer could appear charming, friendly even.

You could laugh in the arms of your enemy.

To destroy Voldemort she had to align herself with a different kind of evil.

And she would align herself with Sebastián, even if it meant risking her life.

The music picked up.

"CON GARRA!" Sebastián shouted at her. "With feeling!"

They crisscrossed to the left side of the room at a ferocious pace.

Sebastián flung her out and back in again, wrapping his arm around her waist.

Suddenly, Hermione lunged forward, as she'd watched the other dancers do, and extended her right leg behind her…

Sebastián caressed the left side of her face and dragged her up by her wrists.

Hermione rested her head on his chest.

He grasped her thigh, and hooked her leg around his waist.

He spun them across the room at an ungodly speed.

The crowd became a blur. They were a sea of faces…she couldn't distinguish one from the next…

Sebastián dipped her low and ran a hand along her neck, then lower...past the valley between her breasts.

The intimate touch shocked Hermione and her body screamed to pull away, but she knew Sebastián was testing her resolve.

She reached up and wound her fingers through his dark curls.

Sebastián smiled down at her, his nostrils flaring, burying his head into her neck.

She gasped as his teeth scraped her skin.

Her entire body went still. She feared she had gone too far, that he would drain the life from her as Enrique had done to Constanza.

She could hear her heart pounding in her ears…the world came to a halt...

And then he was pulling her up...he had other plans for her...

Sebastián and Hermione faced the crowd, completely breathless.

The music ended.

Hermione looked around her, and her eyes fell on Draco.

He was livid.

There was a mutinous look in his eyes, and he looked like he was on the verge of storming towards them.

Hermione shot him a warning look, praying he would keep his composure.

He knew she had to do her part for the Order…

Fortunately, the music changed and the crowd formed a circle, blocking his path. She and Sebastián swayed to the right then changed partners. A vampire dressed in blue velvet pressed his palm to Hermione's.

They circled each other.

The minutes passed, and Hermione alternated partners in time to the music, but she was distracted. She couldn't afford to lose more time. She was eager to get back to Sebastián and ask him about Harry. She had waited long enough…

The music changed and a new vampire stepped in front of her.

He was significantly shorter than the last, and he was not as graceful as the others. He moved left when everyone else moved right. He was looking fixedly at Malfoy, stepping on her toes in the process.

"Is everything alright?" she asked, slightly bewildered.

The vampire nodded his head, readjusting his mask, and before she could question him again it was time to change partners once more.

She craned her neck, trying to get a better glimpse of Sebastián. If she could just speak with him again—

She gasped when she saw Draco standing in front of her.

"You do know he's over a thousand years old?"

"What?" Hermione asked.

"Sebastián," Draco said stiffly. "That was quite a dance."

She frowned at him.

"Tell me something Granger, why is it whenever there's a ball you're always dancing with someone else?"

 _Was he jealous?_ Hermione thought incredulously. _Didn't he see she was playing a part?_

"What are you talking about?"

"Fourth year—"

She laughed. "Exactly how much wine have you had, Malfoy? The Yule Ball? We weren't together then…you hated me, remember?"

"I didn't hate you. I followed you after Weasley made you burst into tears. You just had to run off with Krum after he found us together. I thought it was because you were afraid of me, but maybe you like having men chase after you. Back then it was Weasley and Krum, and now I suppose it's whoever you can fi—"

"Shut up Malfoy."

She tried to push him away, but he blocked her.

"These last few weeks? Did they mean anything? Or did you just need someone to get you through the aftermath of the battle?"

Her mouth fell open in shock. "You're unbelievable!"

"You sleep with me, you act like you care, but you've never actually said the words, have you?"

Hermione resisted the urge to strangle him. If Draco didn't know the way she felt about him by now, then he was completely daft.

"I can't deal with this right now, _Malfoy_."

He sneered at her. "I just hope you remember why we're here."

She gaped at him, incensed. " _Of course_ , I remember why we're here." She looked over her shoulder at Sebastián. "And you're ruining my chances—"

"Your _chances_?" he said, seizing her wrist, his anger spiraling. "Exactly what are you hoping to achieve—"

A voice interrupted them. "Is everything alright, Ms. Granger?"

"Yes," Hermione said quickly, looking up at Sebastián.

"I believe we have much to discuss." Sebastián whisked her away from Draco. "Perhaps we should speak in private…"

Draco reached for her arm. "I don't want you to go with him."

Hermione bristled. "That's not for you to decide."

Draco's eyes narrowed into slits, his blood boiling. "Are you so desperate to find Potter, that you're willing to sell yourself—"

She slapped him hard across the face.

"Clearly Malfoy, you don't know me at all. I thought you had changed, but tonight proves you haven't. I'm not your property. Let go of me."

Draco reeled back from her, releasing her arm.

Sebastián threw him an amused glance, then led Hermione away, his hand low on her waist.

Draco vowed to curse the blasted vampire to pieces, but a pair of dancers moved in front of him, blocking Hermione from view, and when the crowd parted, she and Sebastián were gone.

"Mr. Malfoy," Magdalena said, walking up behind him. "We must dance. **"**

She stroked his arm and pressed her lips to his ear. "I shall make it worth your while."

But all Draco could think of was Hermione, and Sebastián's arm around her waist.

He had to find them…

***

Hermione followed Sebastián through several chambers and corridors. He held a torch in his hand, lighting their way.

She was about to ask him where they were heading, when he led her down a set of marble steps.

She crouched down as they walked through the passage. They were moving further below ground.

It was difficult to maneuver in her dress, and she gathered it to one side, trying to squeeze through the small space.

A moment later she saw light. The passage opened into a circular chamber made of black marble. As Hermione looked around her, she realized they were standing in a crypt.

The golden-paneled walls and ornate architecture took her breath away.

It was a baroque shrine to death…an ostentatious burial chamber…

There were black coffins in niches along the walls. They were stacked above each other in six columns around the room. Gold, gleaming nameplates shone at the front of each coffin.

Hermione looked up. A gilded chandelier hung above her, suspended from a domed ceiling.

There were golden brackets along the walls, each in the shape of angels, holding candlesticks in their outstretched hands, lighting up the room.

It was like a palace of death, beautiful in its morbid glory.

"What is this place?" Hermione asked.

"It is where we come to rest when we are weary of the world. Some of us rest for a few years, others a few centuries, until we are ready to rejoin the world once more."

Hermione looked uneasily around her, not understanding why Sebastián had brought her here.

They were deep within a vault…she was at his mercy. No one would hear her scream.

"Do you feel that way?" Hermione asked tentatively. "Weary of the world?"

"Oh no, Ms. Granger. At present, I am most interested in the current state of affairs."

They circled each other. Sebastián's gold, unblinking eyes stared back into hers.

"They say you are the greatest witch of your age."

Hermione stared back at him but said nothing, catching the unmistakable doubt in his voice as he took stock of her.

"You see, Ms. Granger, I have met the greatest witch of _every_ age, and you lack something the others possessed in spades."

She waited.

"Arrogance…unshakeable confidence…vanity. Those qualities push a select few to go further than others dare, fueled by the desire to achieve immortality…to hold the living in awe long after they're dead. But by the same token, those qualities can lead to their destruction—a messy end before glory is ever attained."

He tilted his head. "The greatest wizards hover over the precipice of success and ruin. You do not. It seems you are ambitious but not vain. You are determined but not self-serving. And although you are stubborn, your bravery and courage have taken you far. It appears you have still come to Segovia, even after you have seen the worst…"

Her blood quickened. Was he referring to Harry? To her visions of him in the Alcazar?

"Is Harry alive?" she asked, unable to contain herself any longer.

In a flash Sebastián was standing directly in front of her, his face mere inches from hers.

"You were doing so well until now, Ms. Granger. You must contain your curiosity a while longer. We will not speak of Mr. Potter…yet."

Hermione swallowed.

Sebastián looked at her disdainfully. "Vampires were run out of Britain long ago, and now you wish for my kind to return? You'd like us to defeat Tom Riddle for you, then expel us once more?"

Hermione breathed in deeply. "In the past, vampires didn't adhere to the Statute of Secrecy—"

"Most of us kill to feed, to survive, it is in our nature. Yes, others kill for sport. I am guilty of both. I can only imagine what Calatrava has told you. That we are fickle? Some of us are, yes. But my interest in you, Ms. Granger, does not lie in your blood, but in your skill."

She looked up at him in consternation.

"Wizards have underestimated vampires for centuries. Do not make the same mistake."

He circled her again.

"What do you know of Voldemort?" Hermione asked, unnerved by the way he was staring at her.

"Voldemort? Come now, Ms. Granger, let us call him by his true name."

Sebastián paused. "Tom Riddle was a most ambitious boy."

"You knew him?"

"I must confess, I underestimated him. He was only nineteen when I saw him last."

Hermione gaped at him.

Sebastián smiled at her. "He wanted to become immortal. Of course he would seek the help of a vampire. I thought I could control him. How wrong I was..."

"But I thought he had made—"

Hermione stopped herself, about to say the word "horcruxes." Perhaps it was unwise for her to reveal their existence to Sebastián, unless he already knew…

The vampire gave her a knowing look.

"Horcruxes can be destroyed, Ms. Granger. They do not ensure immortality. That is why Tom envied myself and my kind. Foolish boy…"

Sebastián paced around the room. "He was very charming…but I refused his request. I do not turn wizards. He thought he would be the exception. And he almost was…can you imagine how much stronger he would be now, had I granted his desire?"

Hermione stared at Sebastián in amazement.

"Tom spoke much of Salazar Slytherin, how he admired him, how he wanted to follow in his footsteps. I suppose they were alike in many ways. They both fashioned names for themselves. They both renounced their families."

Hermione nodded. She had heard this information before while trapped in the past, in the pages of the Founder's book. Slytherin was not Salazar's real name…

"And Tom?" she asked, looking up at Sebastián once more. "Why did you refuse him?'

"As I said, he knew how to stir my interest. But he should not have spoken of Salazar with such reverence. That was his mistake. He had studied the wizard, yes, but he did _not_ truly know him, how could he?"

Hermione looked at Sebastián as if seeing him for the first time, her pulse accelerating. He was over a thousand years old…how had she not thought of it before?

"The way you speak of Slytherin…it sounds like _you_ knew him."

Sebastián nodded at her. "Yes, I knew him. I was not always a creature of the night, Ms. Granger. I was human once…and when I was, I lived and breathed beside him."

"Were you friends?" Hermione asked, her eyes suddenly alive with excitement.

"No, Ms. Granger, we were family."

Sebastián touched her face. An electric current shot through her just like the last time.

She closed her eyes as he invaded her mind...the familiar buzzing started again...

He sifted through her thoughts until he found the memory he wanted.

He forced her to look back at the Founder's battle.

She was at Hogwarts again...

Salazar Slytherin was brandishing a sword at his opponent…Salazar seized the man's neck and his hood fell from his face.

Only this time, the scene did not dissolve. Hermione grimaced as she was propelled forward, crashing into the two men.

She looked up, catching a glimpse of Salazar's rival. She recognized his curly dark hair, his deep set eyes…

She knew those eyes…only they were brown now instead of vivid gold…

Sebastián released Hermione and the scene from Hogwarts faded away.

"You forget that you've seen me before, Ms. Granger, in the pages of your book."

Hermione reeled back from him in shock. He was the one who had attacked Hogwarts all those years ago…

"You asked me how I knew Salazar Slytherin. You see, Ms. Granger…he and I were once Sebastián and Salazar _Arévalo_ …two brothers from Segovia."

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Much more to be revealed in the next chapter! Thank you to all who are reading and following this story :)


	15. Chapter 15

"Salazar Slytherin was your brother?" Hermione asked in disbelief.

Sebastián nodded at her, his golden eyes stirring with some strange emotion.

"I was born into a wealthy family, one of the most prominent in Segovia. My mother died in childbirth. My father remarried when I was young, and shortly after Salazar was born. Salazar's mother presented herself as a woman of noble character, but I always knew there was a darkness in her. It didn't take me long to discover she was a witch.

"I never told my father. She died of the plague three years after Salazar was born. I suspected God had punished her, and I feared her wickedness had damaged Salazar's soul. I did not want him to meet the same end. I often took him to prayer and confession, hoping he wouldn't follow in her footsteps.

**"** We were inseparable for a time, but I always knew Salazar was different from the other boys. He would make strange things happen, things that he couldn't explain. And I often saw him in the courtyard of our home, walking among the snakes that slithered out in the heat of summer. It was almost like he was speaking to them. Over time I could not deny what he was. He had inherited his mother's traits. And I could not permit him to ruin our family's good name.

Sebastián smiled bitterly at Hermione.

"You see, I had ambitions to join the church in Rome. I insisted that Salazar hide his true nature for the sake of our family, to maintain our high standing in society…and to ensure my future.

"But when he turned seventeen he grew tired of pretending. He began to consort with his own kind, and soon he learned of a group of wizards in the south of Spain…they were teaching the craft of sorcery in secret. Our father did not want him to go…over time he came to realize what Salazar was.

"They argued. Salazar lost his temper. He'd oppressed his powers for so long…that he didn't know how to control them. Without knowing how, he started a terrible fire." Sebastián breathed in deeply. "He was desperate to stop it, but he failed to do so in time, and our father was killed.

"Salazar and I were never the same after that. I considered him a demon that had destroyed our family. He begged me to forgive him. The guilt consumed him, and he asked me what I believed of his soul, and if I thought it could be saved. I answered that he had no soul, that he was a devil, and that he would burn in hell for what he'd done.

Sebastián paused, remembering…

"I sent him away from Segovia, and kept our father's fortune to myself, threatening to expose Salazar for what he was if he fought me. I lied to our relatives and told them that Salazar had died in the fire too. I was now the sole heir of the Arévalo fortune, and Salazar left Spain altogether…fearful of my wrath.

"It was convenient for you then?" Hermione asked boldly. "His departure?"

Sebastián nodded.

"I left Spain also, and traveled to Rome. Only the wealthy, the learned, could climb the ranks of the church. My uncle was a cardinal. He procured me a position as a deacon, and for a time I thrived. I was well-respected, I had my father's wealth, and I was surrounded by Rome's elite. My first few years in the city passed without incident…

Sebastián looked at Hermione with an odd expression.

"But then one day everything changed. There was a scandal, a murder, involving one of Rome's wealthiest families, and I was caught in the middle. A friend I had once trusted, blamed me for the crimes he had committed.

"I was asked to leave the church. I was disgraced. And over time, I gambled away my fortune. Within two years, I was impoverished. I firmly believed that Salazar placed a curse on me before he left Spain. I was convinced that my failure in Rome was his doing, some kind of dark spell. I wanted revenge…

Hermione thought back to the attack on Hogwarts.

"After much digging, I learned that my brother was in Scotland. By this time he had fashioned a new name for himself. He was no longer Salazar Arévalo, but Salazar Slytherin. He had made friends with one of the most powerful and wealthy wizards of the time, Godric Gryffindor. And they were building a school, a school for magic such as the world had never seen…and so I went to the foreign land he now called home.

"Salazar was shocked to see me. We had not seen each other in thirteen years. I made myself appear a changed man. I asked for his forgiveness. I convinced him that I no longer sought glory or wealth, but wished to dedicate my life to charitable work…to help the underprivileged, the sick. I begged him to take me in. He wanted to believe me, to regain some connection to family. And I suppose, he still felt responsible for our father's death.

"He did not tell Godric that I was his brother, but an old friend from Spain. I did not betray his identity. The Founders thought he was a pure-blood wizard. They called me 'The Spaniard,' and none of them bothered to learn my real name. I kept mostly to myself. I was Salazar's quiet and pious friend. As the school neared completion, the Founders sought to acquire house elves from abroad. At the time, elves were rare in Scotland and they needed the creatures to run the school. I argued with Salazar against it. I told him their keeping would be akin to slavery.

"But you had other motives, didn't you?" Hermione asked.

Sebastián ignored her comment and went on. "I convinced Salazar to employ the muggles that lived in the countryside. Many of them were starving. Scotland was divided by warring clans. It was a violent time. Many of the clan leaders sought alliances with wizards for protection."

Hermione's eyes widened as Sebastián went on.

"For a time wizards and witches did not fear persecution. Muggles rulers were too busy fighting amongst themselves. I convinced Salazar that the impoverished muggles could co-exist with wizards. They only wanted a chance to live, to do honest work. Godric advised against it, but Salazar was eager to please me. He wanted to make up for the past. He still sought my approval, though he no longer needed it. And so…I had my way.

Sebastián smiled.

"In truth, I knew the muggles viewed Salazar and his friends as dark demons…but their hunger outweighed their morals. They wanted to survive, and for three years they worked diligently…although I suspected many of them feared for their souls.

Hermione swallowed her anger. She knew what came next…

"In Godric, Salazar found the brother he always wanted, the brother I failed to be. I envied their closeness. I sought to destroy them, and I knew they both loved the same woman—Rowena Ravenclaw. I played on that weakness, slowly turning them against each other. But it wasn't enough for me. I resented that Salazar was doing so well, growing so rich, while I lived at his mercy. And so I organized a plan to ruin his school, and everything he held dear."

Hermione swallowed, not understanding why he had chosen to confide in her.

"Wealthy wizards had invested in the construction of Hogwarts. Their children attended the school. I knew that by killing their heirs, I would ruin Salazar. I told myself that I was doing God's work, that by destroying Hogwarts, I would destroy evil itself. But in truth, I was seeking to satisfy my desire for vengeance. And so I planned the attack…

"I convened in secret with the muggles that worked at the school and the ones that lived in nearby villages. Many of the students kept coffers filled with gold in their rooms. The servants could take the wealth owed them, after years of hard work with little pay. All parties would be satisfied."

Hermione felt her blood rise, but she willed herself to remain silent.

"You saw in your book, Ms. Granger, the events that took place. I made sure that Godric and Salazar were away when the attack began. I fed them a false story of a battle in Aberdeen. They had formed an alliance with a muggle clan that ruled that territory. They had promised each other protection, and so they left the castle. Had Godric not returned to Hogwarts in time, I would have killed many more.

Hermione backed away from Sebastián, suddenly fearful. She had the feeling his story was far from over.

He spoke again.

"As for Rowena Ravenclaw, she survived, but just barely. And Godric's trust in Salazar was lost. He could not understand why he did not kill me immediately, or why he had brought me to the school in the first place…

"Salazar swore revenge on me. His love for me was gone, replaced by a deep hatred. In his eyes, death was too good for me. He thought long and hard on my punishment. I had no way of knowing the twisted fate that lay ahead.

"Salazar had discovered a dark creature. It had just begun to walk the earth. He introduced me to it, and gave me a choice between death, or eternal life in a new form. Although I was a man of God, I greatly feared death. Salazar knew I would choose to become a vampire, even if I did not fully understand what it meant.

"And so, he made me a creature of the night, a force of evil, the type of evil I'd fervently sought to destroy in my youth. I was no longer a man of God, but the devil's servant.

"Salazar is the reason you became a vampire?" Hermione asked in disbelief.

"A fitting punishment, don't you think?" Sebastián asked dryly.

He paced around the chamber and went on.

"Godric never forgave Salazar for letting me into the school. And Salazar never told him we were brothers. He was trapped in his own lie. Hogwarts was almost ruined, and Salazar was ashamed, embarrassed…over the years he sought to regain the trust of the Founders. But nothing he did was ever good enough for Godric. It was like losing a brother again, and he could not bear it.

"As for Rowena Ravenclaw, she would not choose between Salazar and Godric. She knew the stability of Hogwarts depended on the unity of the Founders. If she chose one man over the other, the little tolerance they had for each other would break. They lived in agony, bound together, the three in that stone castle. Eventually, Ravenclaw married another…

Hermione remembered how devastated Salazar had been when he thought Rowena dead.

"Decades later, Godric and the other Founders forced Salazar to leave Hogwarts. They felt his methods had become too extreme. His hatred for muggles and muggleborns, a hatred that I had inspired, became too great. And so Salazar left a monster deep within Hogwarts, a basilisk, to be awakened by his future heir. But he did not stop there. Salzar realized that while powerful wizards opposed him, he would never succeed in eradicating muggleborns.

"He dedicated the last years of his life to experimenting with dark magic, he wished to find a way to manipulate the magic of others, or drain it from them completely. He came very close, but he did not finish.

"He knew he was dying. He hid the information he had discovered in Hogwarts, sneaking back into the castle one night. He hoped that one day, his heir would finish what he'd started.

Sebastián breathed in deeply.

**"** On his deathbed, I visited Salazar. I invaded his mind and discovered his secrets. I could not forgive him for trapping me in a living death…and he could not forgive me for ruining him. I envied the sweet release that death gave him…"

"You envied him until the end," Hermione observed. "Even after he lost everything."

Sebastián looked at her bitterly. **"** I destroyed him, I made him what he was by taking away everything he held dear. And he did the same to me. We made each other into monsters…"

The flames from the candles danced across his face.

Hermione was silent, and it was a while before Sebastián spoke again.

"I knew at once, after meeting him, that Tom Riddle was Salazar's heir. As I told you before, I refused to turn him. He was disappointed, but he was determined to become immortal. He continued the dark plans he had started in school. He split his soul seven ways. And now, it appears he has finished Salazar's work and discovered a way to drain wizard's of magic…

Hermione nodded, Nikola had confirmed this news to her when they arrived in Spain.

"But I have not told you everything," Sebastián said slowly. "Years after Salazar's death, I requested an audience with the Founders. I told Godric the truth of Salazar's identity, and he suffered greatly. He had never suspected Salazar and I were brothers. Much became clear to him, and he regretted the way they had ended things.

"Why did you speak to the Founders?" Hermione asked. "Why did you return to Hogwarts?"

"There was a prophecy, a prophecy that said a man of immense skill would bend all wizards to his will." Sebastián sighed. "I worried that if this event came to pass, my kind would suffer. Vampires were already at the mercy of wizards, and if one man held all the power…I could only imagine the consequences…"

Sebastián circled the chamber. "According to the prophecy, the only way this wizard could fail, was if flesh of his flesh betrayed him…a child born to right the wrongs of the father. In time, this child would seek the help of the greatest witch of the age, and together, they would destroy him. You, Ms. Granger, are the greatest witch of your age."

Hermione stared at him, numb with shock.

"We didn't know _when_ the prophecy would come to pass…in years, decades or even centuries. So the Founders created a book, a book that the future generations of Hogwarts could find. The truth would reveal itself to the one who was worthy.

Sebastián sighed.

**"** Tom Riddle never learned of this prophecy, I hid it well from him. The only prophecy he cared about was the one that came much later, when he was at the height of his power…the prophecy that told of a boy born in the month of July—a boy that possessed the power to destroy him.

You see, by making horcruxes Tom Riddle altered the natural course of events. A second prophecy emerged because Voldemort must be defeated not once, but twice.

Hermione shook her head. None of this made any sense to her.

"Mr. Potter shall be the catalyst of Voldemort's downfall but you are to deliver the final blow, Ms. Granger."

"I don't understand," she said. "I thought Harry—"

"Harry was destined to weaken him, to destroy his horcruxes—you were destined to kill him. Harry will take his immortality, and you must take his life."

Hermione shook her head.

It was as if she'd forgotten how to breathe.

"Fortunately, Mr. Potter has destroyed all but one of Voldemort's horcruxes. He is alive, Ms. Granger. In fact, you danced with him this evening."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "What do you mean? That's impossible…I would have recognized him."

Sebastián raised an eyebrow. "Think carefully. He was wearing a mask."

Then Hermione remembered the vampire that was not as graceful as the others, the one that moved left when everyone else moved right…just as Harry had done at the Yule Ball.

Sebastián touched her face, and she gasped as he pulled her into his memories—she watched him speaking with Harry in a dark corner of the palace, then she followed him as they walked through the corridors and passages that led to the ballroom. She watched as Harry tied a mask around his face…

She swallowed. She had danced with Harry. He was alive…and he knew she was here with Malfoy.

Sebastián released her.

"Everything you saw in the Founder's book is true, Ms. Granger. Your dreams of Harry dying in the Alcazar, however, are false. I'm afraid I am to blame for them. I wanted to test your strength. I wanted to see if you would come to Spain even if you feared Harry was dead. And so you have."

Hermione gazed at Sebastián in shock. How was he able to manipulate her dreams from a whole ocean away?

"I'd like to speak to Harry," she said firmly.

"I am afraid Mr. Potter is not ready to speak, at least not tonight. He was most disturbed by Mr. Malfoy's presence at the ball. He does not understand why you, his closest friend, have arrived on the arm of a Death Eater. I think it best if you give him some time."

Hermione nodded. Harry was alive, and that's all that mattered.

"Did Dumbledore know about the old prophecy?" she asked.

Sebastián nodded. "All the headmasters of Hogwarts have known."

Hermione inhaled sharply.

"Do not resent Dumbledore for his silence, Ms. Granger. You had to find the book for yourself, and discover its secrets. Only then could you know if you were meant to fulfill the prophecy. You must find the child that Tom Riddle fathered. And once the final horcrux is destroyed, Ms. Granger, both of you must kill Voldemort. And in so doing, you will truly become the greatest witch of your age."

Hermione stepped away from him. It was too much to take in. Her mind was reeling.

She gazed at the coffins stacked on top of each other, suddenly desperate to leave the room.

"Will you help us fight?" she asked. "Will you join the Magical Alliance?"

Sebastián smiled. "At the end of tonight's festivities I will take you back to the Alcazar—you will rejoin Calatrava. And tomorrow you will return you to your ship, and you will have your answer."

"And Harry?" she asked.

"He will return home with you regardless of my decision."

Hermione stepped closer to Sebastián, no longer afraid of him.

"Can I ask a final question?"

Sebastián nodded.

"Salazar once asked what you believed of life and death…but you were a different man then…what do you believe now?"

Sebastián smiled at her.

"I believe that angels can be akin to devils…"

He gestured around the room.

"Heaven and hell can be found on earth."

He stepped closer to her.

"The triumphs and tragedies we live are often of our own design, and the afterlife…it consists not of flames, or of eternal glory, but of something else entirely. We do not fade as long as we burn brightly in the souls of those we leave behind."

He tilted his head.

"And one final thing, Ms. Granger."

Sebastián gestured to his pale face, to his fangs.

"When you try to change the world, more often than not…it will change you."

***

The air was stifling hot…the wine rushed to Draco's head…

He threw his coat off.

He was tired of this country, of the Arévalos and the fact that he was at their mercy.

An hour passed, then two, but as Draco sobered up, fear took hold of him. What if Hermione was in trouble? What if Sebastián—"

No, he couldn't think the worst.

Draco searched the palace, but he found no trace of them.

He stopped in a deserted corridor, leaning against the wall to catch his breath. He struggled to formulate a proper plan—

He didn't know for how long he stood there. Then he heard footsteps...the rustling of a gown.

Draco looked up. It was her.

"Hermione!" he cried.

She avoided his eyes and made to walk past him, but he blocked her.

She was stunning as ever in her beautiful dress, but there was fury in her eyes, a reproach threatening to emerge from her soft, red lips.

"Did he hurt you?" Draco asked.

Hermione shook her head at him.

"What happened then? Why were you gone all this time?"

Hermione breathed in deeply. Draco's accusing tone made her blood boil. She gathered her skirts and walked away from him.

"Hermione, wait!"

"Do you really think I'd offer myself up to him?!" she shouted, unable to control her temper any longer.

"Tell me what happened," Draco demanded, seizing her arm and making her face him. "I won't be kept in the dark!"

"He told me about his past, that was all!"

Through his haze of rage and jealousy, Draco knew he had to pull himself together. He had to find out if she'd learned anything of Potter's whereabouts…

"Don't you trust me at all?" Hermione asked, her voice breaking.

Draco hesitated before answering. It was hard for him to trust anyone. His family excelled in the art of deception. They prided themselves on it. It was how they'd climbed so high. Draco often assumed others acted as he did. But Hermione wasn't like that. She was better than he was.

"I'm sorry," he began.

Hermione was breathing hard. Her eyes shot sparks at him. She frowned at him, noticing his grey eyes had clouded over…

"Is there something you want to tell me?" she asked.

He could end it all here. Tell her the truth. He knew their journey was drawing to a close, and soon he would have to deliver Potter to the Dark Lord…But Hermione would never understand. She would not care to save his mother's life, if it meant Potter had to die.

But he had to make sure she was safe…he had to make sure she was out of harm's way when the time came…

He blinked, realizing that she was still waiting for an answer. "No there's nothing, just that I'm sorry—"

"No you're not. I was in there trying to get information, risking my life, and what have you been doing? Drinking and making up stories in your head!" Her voice shook. "Maybe we should go our separate ways."

Draco seized Hermione's shoulders. "You're not going anywhere."

Her eyes widened. "Is that a threat?"

"I don't want to lose you!"

"Why?!"

"Because I love you Hermione! Don't you see that?!" Draco felt like shaking her. He needed to tell her how he felt before it was too late. "Do you think I planned to fall for Potter's best friend? It was torture, all those years…being so close to you, and not being able to touch you—"

She raised her chin defiantly. "Really?! You had a strange way of showing it!"

"I was a prat," he admitted. "I made you think I hated you. But it was a lie. I couldn't stop thinking about you. You were different from everyone else. I admired the way you stood up for your friends…no one stood up for me the way you did for Potter or Weasley—not my parents, not Theo or Nott, not Pansy…no one. I wondered what it would be like…to have someone like you in my life. And that's all I could do…wonder. And it made me angry. And in some twisted way I wanted to hurt you because I couldn't have you…because I knew my parents and everyone else wouldn't approve."

"If you really wanted me," Hermione said coldly, "you wouldn't have cared what anyone had to say about it."

Malfoy took her hand. "I was a coward, I know that. And it was torture every time I saw Weasley whispering to you in potions, it was agony when I saw you dance with Krum, and I hated myself every time I called you _mudblood_. I'm sorry for the way I treated you then, and I'm sorry for the way I acted tonight. I was an idiot, I'm sorry."

He knew he should have apologized to her a long time ago…but he was glad he had done it now that she was still willing to listen.

There were tears in Hermione's eyes. She didn't have the strength to fight him. She didn't want to relive her conversation with Sebastián either. She just wanted to escape…

She breathed in deeply.

"Maybe all of this was a mistake," she said.

She peeled off her gloves and tossed them to the floor. "Maybe we're not meant to be together. Maybe I can't forget the past. Maybe I _shouldn't_ forget the past."

"You don't mean that," Draco whispered.

He was almost certain she'd learned where Potter was. She was questioning their whole relationship. Maybe she needed an excuse to end things with him, maybe she didn't want to explain it all to Harry or the Order…tell them she'd fallen for a Slytherin, a Death Eater…

On impulse, he slipped his arm around Hermione's waist and spun her to face the wall.

"What are you doing?" she breathed.

He pressed his lips to her neck, whispering apologies into her ear.

This could be the last time he held her in his arms…

Adrenaline was coursing through Hermione's veins. "Let me go," she warned.

"I need you," Draco whispered, burying his face into her neck. "Please…"

A mixture of despair and loneliness enveloped him. He sensed everything was ending between them.

His hands slid up from her hips, to her ribcage, stopping just over her breasts.

Hermione's cheeks flamed.

"Draco…not here."

He pressed his body to hers, feeling her tremble against him.

"Don't push me away," he pleaded. "No tonight."

Hermione leaned against him, biting down on her lip…

"You can't fix things this way," she said resentfully, struggling to breathe as he trailed kisses down her neck.

Draco swallowed. The scent of her skin was intoxicating.

But he couldn't lose his head completely. He had to see into her thoughts. He had to learn what Sebastián had told her.

Hermione's spiraling emotions would make it easy to open her mind to him. If he was careful, she'd never know he was looking into her memories…

Draco pulled Hermione tighter against him, feeling her resolve slip away.

This was the last time he'd betray her…after this, he would let her go.

Hermione tilted her head back, draping an arm around Draco's neck as his tongue slipped into her mouth.

He kissed her like it was the last time. He held her like she would vanish into thin air.

His lips were fierce on hers. Her nails dug into his scalp.

They struggled to breathe…

Draco slipped a hand between her thighs.

Hermione's mind gave way slightly, and Draco searched her memories. He saw her walking into a circular chamber with Sebastián. They were speaking, but their words were muted…

"Anyone might see us," Hermione said in a strained whisper, pulling Draco back to the present.

They could still hear music and laughter coming from the ballroom.

Draco sensed Hermione wouldn't let him in completely, not while she worried someone might discover them…

He took her arm, and they wandered the halls and corridors until they found an empty bedroom.

They walked inside and locked the door.

Hermione removed Draco's shirt and trousers, not satisfied until he was standing naked in front of her.

Draco undid the laces of her dress with his wand, watching it slip off and fall at her feet.

Hermione was shaking slightly, wearing nothing but her opal necklace.

He lifted her onto the bed.

Beads of sweat ran down her breasts and stomach.

Draco wanted to drink her in, to savor her…

She threaded her hands through his damp hair, kissing his jaw, pulling him closer.

He moved his hands up her arms. Her neck was glistening, her shoulders were slick and wet. Her lips were swollen and bruised from the rough kisses he'd given her. He wished his kisses would always linger on her lips…he hoped her body would always hold the memory of him.

Hermione arched her back, exposing her breasts to him.

Draco pressed his mouth to her, taking her nipple into his mouth as she moaned softly.

She whispered his name, pulling tighter on his hair.

He trailed kisses down her stomach, savoring the salty taste of sweat that dripped from her skin.

Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist, impatient for him.

Draco hovered over her, wishing he'd taken her to the Yule Ball, wishing he'd made love to her in every corner of Hogwarts…

He should have told her how he felt years ago…

Hermione's hands dropped down to his backside, and she gripped him tightly, encouraging him to enter her.

He shuddered, looking down at her, trying to restrain himself for a moment longer.

Hermione's hair was a tangled mess of curls. She stared up at him, knowing the power she held over him. There was a hungry look in her eyes. It made Draco want her even more.

He pushed inside her. Hermione's mouth fell open, and her eyes closed in rapture.

She was everything, and he didn't want to let her go…it would never be like this with anyone else.

Hermione gave a high pitched cry as he rocked into her.

They were both trembling, and suddenly, Hermione felt the intensity of his loneliness, his pain. But she couldn't understand it…she didn't know why this time everything felt different between them.

Draco kissed her deeply, rocking into her again.

The last of her defenses fell away.

He saw her talking to Sebastián. They were walking, pacing around a room lined with coffins….then Sebastián touched Hermione's face. He showed her a vision—a vision of a boy. He had black hair, and bright green eyes, a scar…

Draco froze.

Hermione's eyes were closed. She didn't see the shock register on his face.

_Potter was here, in the palace…_

Draco's fingers dug into Hermione's waist.

It was all over. Dumbledore was dead, and the Order was hanging by a thread. There was no running away from this. He could no longer play pretend.

***

Time was a strange thing.

It seemed to move without them.

All too soon they were back at the Alcazar.

It was near dawn. They waited for Calatrava to meet them but he never came.

Draco and Hermione walked back to the center of town.

When they arrived at Calatrava's home they were surprised to see the front door was already open.

They searched the house. Everything was in its place, but Calatrava was nowhere to be found.

Moments later, Draco watched Hermione tear apart her room. She was searching for the Founder's book.

He blamed Calatrava for its disappearance.

Draco had sent the wizard to a neighboring town. He'd confunded him the night they'd left to meet the Arévalos. It was the only way.

Hermione had to believe Calatrava had stolen the book and not him.

"What would he want with it?" Hermione asked, panicking. "None of this makes any sense…"

Draco assured Hermione it didn't matter. The book had put her in danger. They had to go. She had to forget about it.

He ignored the odd looks she gave him, the suspicious glances.

They stayed in the house until nightfall. Hermione hoped that Calatrava would return to them, but of course he never did.

Draco urged Hermione to pack her things, and he did the same. It was time to go. It was time to return to the ship.

***

Draco retreated into himself, ignoring Hermione's attempts at conversation as they arrived in the seaside port of San Sebastián. His mind was reeling with the weight of what he had to do.

_What if the_ _Arévalo_ _s didn't join them?_ Hermione wondered, as they walked towards the dock.

Would the Magical Alliance be able to defeat Voldemort's army on its own? And what would Harry say to her when she saw him?

She looked at Draco. He had been different with her all day.

Something was poisoning him…stealing him away from her…but she couldn't figure out what it was.

From a distance they could see the Dragomir, bobbing on the water.

For several minutes they walked in silence, and then Hermione gasped.

A crowd had gathered on the shore.

There were hundreds of tall figures dressed in black. Their cloaks billowed in the wind. Their skin shone like marble in the moonlight, and their eyes were bright as gold.

Hermione smiled to herself.

The Arévalos had come. Sebastián and his coven would help them fight…

And Hermione knew that Harry was hidden among them, watching her…

They were going home.


	16. Chapter 16

**Malfoy Manor**

Survive at all costs. Take what was before you, even if it wasn't yours to take.

That was the way of things.

Lucius breathed in deeply.

He looked at the manor appraisingly.

The tables were polished, the marble floors were pristine, the chandeliers glistened in the sunlight.

Not a thing was out of place…

But it was in stark contrast to the world outside. Only an hour away in London, riots and executions were taking place.

 _Muggles_ were killing wizards.

 _It won't be long until the mob arrives here_ , Lucius thought grimly.

The Dark Lord failed to listen to reason.

"Why should we live in the shadows?" he had said. "We are the superior race. Let the muggles have their frail rebellion."

But the rebellion was far from frail. Countless wizards were dying. Muggle weapons were more advanced than the Dark Lord conceded.

The Magical Alliance was also gaining ground, slowly pushing their way out of Wales and back into Scotland.

How much time until they made it south, to London?

Voldemort's obsession with finding Potter consumed him. He believed that if killed Potter, everything else would fall into place.

But the tide was turning…it could pull them under.

Dolohov interrupted Malfoy's thoughts.

"The rumors say they're bringing Potter back on the Bulgarian ship, the one the Granger girl fled on."

Lucius turned to him.

"There are more than thirty thousand freshwater lochs in Scotland…and when that blasted ship returns, as it inevitably will, it will emerge from one of them." Lucius paused, a satisfied expression on his face. "And now, thanks to Draco, we know which one."

Dolohov smirked.

Lucius looked down at his son's letter again, reading through the last few lines.

_…I want the Dark Lord's assurance that Mother will go free. I want to see her free of Edevane's grasp, and yours. I want to make it clear that I did none of this for you, I did it all for her. When the war is over, I'm taking her with me. We will do our best to forget you._

_D.M._

Lucius turned to Dolohov once more, his jaw tightening.

"Go to Greymoor Castle. Fetch the youngest Weasley boy. It's time."

**600 Kilometers Away**

The Magical Alliance watched as a massive ship emerged from the water.

The masts of the Dragomir appeared, then the quarterdeck and the forecastle. Cascades of water dripped down the galleon's sides as it broke through the surface.

Hermione and Draco peered over the railing of the ship. They hung on tightly as the Dragomir fought to steady itself, making large ripples in the water.

The majestic mountains of home greeted their eyes. It looked like it had rained for days on end.

There were tents as far as the eye could see.

There had to be over three thousand soldiers in the camp. It looked like many of them were wounded…

A wretched smell filled the air, and Hermione saw smoke rising in the distance. She was filled with dread as she realized the soldiers were burning the bodies of the dead.

Nikola stood beside her on the deck. "The latest reports say Voldemort is pushing further and further south, leaving destruction in his wake. It's as if he vants to crush the country completely then rebuild it to his own liking."

Malfoy said nothing.

The obscurement charm Voldemort had placed over the country, had weakened slightly, allowing light to filter in.

Nikola looked disdainfully behind her, to the door that led to the Arevalo's sleeping quarters.

"They vill not emerge until after sunset," she said. "Hopefully they vill keep their promise and listen to Agarby's orders."

The Arevalos had cleared the ship of rats. They were temperamental, eyeing the crew with hungry eyes in the last leg of the journey…

And now with the smell of blood in the air, they grew more restless.

The temperature was ice cold, and the warm air of Spain was a distant memory.

Malfoy offered Hermione his coat. "Put this on. I'll get us something warm to drink."

He left for the dining hall, and returned a moment later with a goblet of hot cider.

"For the cold," he said. "I'm going to pack my things. Meet you back out here?"

Hermione nodded, tipping back the cider and letting the warm liquid run down her throat.

"I must speak with the crew," Nikola said, leaning away from the railing.

Hermione was about to head for her own cabin, when Konstantin crashed into her, barking madly.

She jumped and dropped the goblet. It shattered all over the deck.

"Forgive him," Nikola called. "He's eager to set foot on land."

Some time later, darkness fell. Nikola and the crew disembarked first, closely followed by Hermione and Draco.

Nikola met with Aksel Agarby. There was a retinue of soldiers standing behind him.

"Captain Rostov!" exclaimed Aksel. "You must meet the commander of the army.…"

A man rode towards them on an eight legged stallion. The horse had large silver wings and its enormous body was covered in armor.

Nikola inclined her head. "Commander Braaten, an honor to meet you at last."

The man wore a metal helmet on his head, and there were tattoos covering one side of his face.

The soldiers behind him had runes carved on their tongues—symbols for protection and victory. They wore their long hair in braids down their backs.

Intricate patterns were carved into their wands, and they held painted shields that glimmered with magic.

Braaten's army also possessed a large number of winged horses, and at the far end of the camp they'd brought two of their native dragons, a pair of Norwegian Ridgebacks.

The creatures were chained to the ground, watched closely by their keepers.

The soldiers looked like they'd just returned from battle.

The soles of many of their boots were torn, and they were repairing them with their wands. Their faces were smeared with mud and their cloaks were shredded.

A distance away, healers were tending to the injured on makeshift cots. They had ghastly wounds and missing limbs…

A healer helped one of the wounded men sit up. "We have to do it now," he said, raising his wand. "Brace yourself."

The soldier bit the edge of his shield as the healer cursed his leg off.

His screams rent the air, and Hermione and Draco looked away.

It was not home as they remembered it, nothing was as they remembered it…

Silence fell over the army as the Arévalos disembarked from the ship, led by Sebastián.

The soldiers gripped their wands tightly, looking at the vampires with suspicion.

"How many are dead?" Sebastián asked, looking at the smoke rising in the distance.

"Over a hundred men," Braaten answered.

"We will do things differently, from now on," Sebastián informed him. Too many mistakes have been made under your command. Where was your last battle and how long ago?"

Braaten's eyes narrowed. "What does it matter to you, bloodsucker?"

Hermione could see Sebastián resist the urge to rip the commander's head from his body. He gestured to the vampires standing behind him.

"They must feed. They must hunt. Or would you like to offer up your wounded soldiers? The smell of blood is in the air, they won't stand idle for long." Sebastián threw a leering look at the injured men. "But it would be unwise to weaken our own army, don't you agree?"

Braaten scoffed. "This is not _your_ army."

"I will not ask again. _Where_ and _when_ was your last battle?"

"Eighty kilometers north of here. Shortly before you arrived."

Sebastián turned to his coven. "Hunt in the woods, and if you are not satisfied, take the bodies of Voldemort's injured soldiers. Feast on those he has left on the battlefield. We must not spare them. They must not live to fight another battle."

The vampires darted past him and disappeared into the trees.

Nikola turned to Aksel Agarby. "What happened to the soldiers that Voldemort drained of magic? It was reported that a quarter of the army was debilitated."

Agarby nodded. "They tend to the sick, some still fight—with swords and other muggle weapons."

Sebastián looked at Agarby disdainfully. "There will no longer be a need for that."

"And the Order of the Phoenix?" Nikola asked.

"Alastor Moody is at the head now," said Agarby. "He's scheduled to arrive tomorrow with several others from London."

Aksel Agarby gestured to his tent. "We should speak inside, but first, we must let Ms. Granger rest," he said, looking over at Hermione.

She bristled. She had no intention of being left out of the conversation.

"I don't wish to retire. I had more than enough rest on the ship."

Agarby raised an eyebrow at her. "Thank you, Ms. Granger for bringing the Arévalos to us. But you must go now." He gestured to one of his guards, "Morten, will you show Ms. Granger the way?"

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but Sebastián stared at her intently, warning her to keep quiet.

She reminded herself that Sebastián was the only one who knew about the old prophecy. Everyone else was still under the impression that Harry was meant to kill Voldemort. In Agarby's eyes, she was nothing more than a teenage girl who needed to stay out of the way.

She and Draco made to follow the guard.

"One moment, Ms. Granger."

"Yes?" she said, turning to look at Agarby again.

"Mr. Malfoy will not be joining you."

He raised his wand. "Incarcerous."

Thick ropes circled around Draco's body.

Hermione stared at him in shock.

"What are you doing?!"

"I'm sorry, Ms. Granger, but we have all agreed…"

Hermione turned to Nikola, but the Bulgarian looked away from her, averting her eyes.

"We will trade him for one of ours," said Agarby in a smooth voice. "As you know, Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange have the Weasley family captive—"

Hermione shook her head. "There must be some other way—"

"We will trade him," Agarby insisted. "For one of the Weasleys. Alastor Moody and the Order have agreed."

Hermione turned to Nikola, enraged. "You planned this with them behind my back!"

"Would you rather your friends die, Ms. Granger?" Sebastián cut in coldly. "A cowardly decision don't you think?"

Hermione struggled to form words.

"Take Ms. Granger to her tent, and make sure she stays there," Agarby told the guard.

Sebastián whispered into Hermione's ear. "You didn't think they would let you keep him, did you?

He turned to Malfoy and lifted his arm, showing Hermione the Dark Mark.

"Once a traitor, always a traitor."

Hermione was seething. "You would know all about traitors."

Sebastián's eyes darkened, but he said nothing.

"Take Ms. Granger now," Agarby ordered.

The guard dragged her away, kicking and screaming.

"As for you, Mr. Malfoy," Agarby said with narrowed eyes. "Will you come quietly or must we endure a scene from you as well?"

Draco said nothing. He felt numb.

He nodded his assent.

Two soldiers seized him.

It didn't matter what happened to him, his plan was already set in motion.

His father would have his letter by now, and there was no turning back.

He could save Hermione, but he could not save Potter.

***

It was completely dark. Hermione opened her eyes and lay still for several moments, trying to piece together what had happened. She was lying in a tent. It felt like she had slept for hours. She realized the guard must have stunned her. She looked up and saw a bluish light dance across the top of the canvas. It was glowing brighter and brighter, lighting up everything around her.

She was freezing. She pulled the coat Draco had given her tightly around herself and stumbled outside, trying to find the source of the light.

There, at the edge of the woods, was a dazzling, silver stag.

The creature's large, silver eyes bored into hers as she took a cautious step forward.

Hermione held her breath as the stag tipped its head to one side, beckoning her to follow it.

She gasped when the animal dashed past her and galloped into the woods.

Branches caught in Hermione's hair as she chased after it. She tossed them aside.

Soon, she was out of breath.

For a moment she feared she was lost. The stag's hooves made no marks in the ground, and she had no way of tracking it.

Then she heard movement to her left. She tore through the trees and stopped in the middle of a clearing.

The stag had cantered to a halt in front of a boy.

She could only see his outline. He was like a specter. Then the light faded, and the stag vanished.

Hermione hadn't seen him in so long, he'd become something like a ghost in her memory…the legendary boy everyone whispered about. But he was only a skinny, gangly boy of fifteen. His glasses hung haphazardly on his nose. His breath came out in cold puffs. His green eyes darted back and forth, scanning her face.

It was Harry, a little older and taller than she remembered him…but still Harry.

Hermione walked forward, and her legs shook slightly.

He closed the distance between them in one quick stride, flinging his arms around her.

"I thought I'd never see you again," he whispered.

Hermione shed tears she'd been holding back for months. Harry held on to her tightly. For a few moments she just trembled in his arms...

Then it all poured out of her, the attack on Hogwarts, the dreams she had of him dying…everything.

Harry tried to soothe her, but it was no use.

"I was able to get Ginny out," Hermione said, "but there were so many others—like Cho and Seamus, they—"

Her voice cracked. She couldn't finish the sentence.

Harry spoke. "It's alright, Hermione. It's not your fault…"

"I'm so glad you're here," she said. She hugged him so tightly she was on the verge of crushing him.

"Hermione…I can't breathe."

"Right, sorry," she said, wiping away her tears.

"I wanted to go back to Hogwarts," Harry said. "But after the Magical Alliance agreed to help us, I had to look for Voldemort's horcruxes abroad."

Hermione nodded.

"After that, I made it to Spain and Sebastián told me everything—I know about his past, about the old prophecy…"

"Why didn't you find me on the ship?" Hermione asked. "I knew you were there, but I never saw you."

"You already had company," said Harry in a tight voice.

 _Draco_ , she thought.

Hermione swallowed her fear and decided to plunge headfirst into the most difficult thing she had to say to him.

"You have to listen to me. I need to explain—about Malfoy. He saved me at the battle, more than once. He—"

Harry's face darkened. "Malfoy is where he needs to be, under close watch. If he really betrayed his family, then Lucius won't take him back, will he? We'll just have to wait and see."

Lucius might not take him back, Hermione thought, but Voldemort would…

He would torture him for deserting. He would torture him then kill him.

"He's changed—" she began.

Harry sighed.

"Hermione, I don't understand any of it—why you chose him, why you defend him…but the truth is—I don't know what you went through all these months. Ron and I were gone. We left you behind. You were on your own. You had to make difficult choices. And maybe you needed him to survive, I don't know…"

"It's more than that, Harry. He and I—"

Harry shook his head, shutting his eyes. "I don't need to know—that's between you and him."

"Help me speak with Agarby," Hermione pleaded. "He can't deliver Malfoy to the Death Eaters. He hasn't done anything wrong."

Harry shook his head. "I can't do that."

His words incited her anger. "Can't or won't?"

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Half the people we know are missing or dead. There's no one left to protect us. We have to be careful."

"Yes, but—"

We have more important things to worry about than Malfoy," Harry said through gritted teeth, losing his patience.

He looked exhausted. There were rings around his eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept properly in days.

He ignored Hermione's look of concern and went on. "Tell me what you know about Tom Riddle's past."

Hermione took a steadying breath.

She told him about the Founder's book, about Catherine…everything she'd learned.

"I thought the book would help me find Catherine's daughter," Hermione said bitterly. "But it's gone now."

Harry nodded. "What do you think became of her?"

Hermione breathed in deeply. "I think Catherine sent her to the only place she knew…even if it hurt her to do it."

She took a step closer to Harry. "I have to go to London, to Bellefaire Orphanage. There must be some record of her daughter there. I have to find out who she is. It's the one thing Sebastián doesn't know. And I can't take anyone from the Order or the Alliance with me. This secret is too important. Voldemort can't know she exists."

Hermione reached for Harry's arm.

"Harry, I need one day—one day to go to London and figure this out. Can you make sure they keep Malfoy here until then?"

Harry breathed in deeply. "I can't promise you that. If they can exchange him for Ron or any of the others, I won't stop them."

Hermione realized he would not concede, and she couldn't blame him. Not after everything he'd been through.

"Then I'll have to hurry," she said.

She'd spent so many months wondering if Harry was alive, and now that she'd finally found him, all they had done was argue.

She walked away from him, her heart heavy.

She needed to pack her things...

Harry called after her. "The prophecy said she's supposed to find you, remember?"

Hermione turned to face him. "I can't wait for Voldemort's daughter to find me. I need to end this before things get worse."

Harry stepped closer to her. "London is too dangerous. It's not how you remember it—"

"It doesn't matter."

"How will you get there?" Harry asked. "Apparition is blocked. Only Death Eaters can apparate freely between cities now. And you can't fly, not with the dementors patrolling the skies."

"I'll take muggle transport if I have to, a car—anything."

"You won't go alone," Harry said. "I'll go with you."

Hermione looked at him, confused. "But you have a horcrux to destroy. Sebastián said there's still one left. Isn't that more important?"

Something in Harry's face changed.

"It can wait," he said. He took a deep breath and looked at Hermione carefully. "What if you're wrong? What if the answers you're searching for aren't in London?"

Hermione shook her head. "I'm almost certain—"

Harry smiled weakly at her. "You don't have to be so sure about everything, Hermione."

Her voice broke. "Maybe we're both pretending to be more daring and clever than we are. But what choice do we have?"

Harry stepped closer to her. "Maybe prophecies are fulfilled only if we choose them—if we believe in them. Voldemort believed in his, and he made it real. He dragged me into this…I never had a choice. But maybe you don't have to do this."

Hermione looked at him with a very weary expression. "Who would I be if I didn't see this through? I can't run away anymore than you can. I don't want to. I want Voldemort gone." She breathed in deeply, swallowing back tears. "This is my responsibility now. I have to find Catherine's daughter—just like you have to destroy Voldemort's horcrux."

Hermione stepped closer to him.

"What _is_ the final horcrux, Harry?"

Something in his eyes shifted. He shook his head at her. "I—"

She was about to speak again, when Harry's legs gave out from under him. He screamed and clutched his scar in agony.

"HARRY, HARRY WHAT IS IT?!"

His screams intensified, and the way he cradled his head, it was like someone was driving a sledgehammer into his skull.

"They're looking for something…at the ruins of the old abbey." Harry gasped.

Hermione looked at him with a terrified expression. "What do you mean?"

"Voldemort ordered them to go. They think he knows…"

"Knows what? What are you talking about?"

"They have Ron. The Death Eaters have Ron at Renwick Abbey."

Harry took slow, shuddering breaths, waiting for the pain to subside. "It's only a few kilometers east of here…"

He screamed into the darkness. "Accio Firebolt!"

For several minutes there was silence, then they heard something crashing through the branches of the trees.

Harry's Firebolt zoomed into his outstretched hand.

Hermione watched him mount the broom with a horrified expression on her face.

"Harry we need to get help. You can't go alone."

"There isn't time. They'll kill him. I saw it—"

"Harry, how do you know this is real? What if Voldemort is using his connection to—"

"Only Ron knew where it was. He would never tell them where it was, unless they took him in person."

"Where _what_ was? The horcrux?"

"No," said Harry. "I can't explain now."

"Harry this is stupid, you can't—"

"I have to take the risk. I can't let Ron die."

"What if—"

"I haven't given up on him, Hermione!"

She reached for his arm. "I haven't given up on him either."

Harry looked at her coldly. "No…but you've been busy, begging for Malfoy's life."

Hermione was stunned into silence. He wasn't being fair. She didn't know what to say to make him stay.

"Harry, please. You're not thinking this through—"

"I have to face Voldemort eventually."

"Yes, but with all of us at your side!" Hermione screamed, gesturing to the camp behind them. "Not like this—you can't go alone!"

Harry looked at her as if she was standing very far away. "I'm meant to go alone…I was always meant to go alone. I've left you an army, Hermione…use it well. Make sure you kill him."

Hermione felt something lodge in her throat. It was like he was saying goodbye. "I can't lose you," she said in a choked voice. "Not both of you—"

"Ron isn't gone yet. I can feel it."

He walked away.

"Harry, let me go with you!"

"No!"

"I don't understand—"

"It's not for you to understand, Hermione!"

He aimed his wand at her. "Expelliarmus!"

Hermione's wand flew out of her hand.

"Don't follow me," he warned.

"Harry, please…"

She took a step closer to him.

"Impedimenta!"

Hermione's feet remained rooted to the ground.

Harry aimed his wand at her again and everything went black.

***

Hermione felt disoriented and confused, trying to remember how she had ended up in the middle of the woods.

Then it came back to her, like a bad dream.

She stretched her hand out, searching for her wand in the darkness.

She was lying on her side, and she felt a sharp stab of pain that made her grimace.

Something was digging into her ribs, something sewn into the coat Malfoy had given her.

She winced as a pointed edge collided with her side again.

She found her wand and sat up. She muttered an incantation. A rip appeared in the seam of the coat.

She reached inside, feeling something square and heavy.

"Lumos," she said, as she pulled the object out.

For several moments Hermione's mind failed to accept what she was seeing.

The golden cover of the Founder's Book glimmered in the light.

Cold dread filled her.

Malfoy had stolen the book, not Calatrava. He had let her search for hours, and all along he had known where it was…

Hermione struggled to breathe.

Then she thought back to the beginning.

The lashings on Draco's back…Romena Wright had tortured him at Hogwarts because she was certain he held important information. And she hadn't let him go, which meant she'd learned enough to know the story he'd given Dumbledore was a lie. And if that was true, Malfoy had never stopped working for Voldemort.

Hermione swallowed.

He had used her, lied to her…

Everyone had warned her. Nikola, Ginny and now Harry…but she hadn't listened.

More than anything, she'd wanted to believe Draco had changed.

A cold sweat broke out on her forehead, and her rapid, shallow breaths increased in intensity as she realized Agarby's guard hadn't stunned her.

Draco had drugged her long before that…she recalled the moments they'd spent together on the ship…he'd disappeared into the dining hall and brought her something to drink.

"For the cold," he had said, handing her a goblet of hot cider. Then he had disappeared into his cabin.

She hadn't finished it. It was the only reason she was awake now.

 _Oh god_ , she thought. _Harry_. _She had led him straight to Harry._

Draco wanted to make sure she was out of the way, fast asleep while Harry walked into a trap.

Hermione didn't know how much time had passed, but she knew she had to hurry. She ran back to the camp, screaming for help.

She lifted her wand high into the air, and three loud blasts erupted from the end of it.

They sounded like gunshots.

Lights went on, illuminating the camp.

She had to get to Agarby…

From a distance she could see Nikola rush onto the deck of the Dragomir.

"Vat is it, Granger?!" she shouted.

Hermione ignored her and kept running, her legs were burning…her muscles screamed in protest.

She ran into a soldier.

"Where can I find Agarby?!"

He pointed to a tent at the far end of the camp.

Hermione ran faster. People were shouting at her, asking questions, but she didn't stop.

When she finally skidded to a halt in front of Agarby's sleeping quarters, two guards blocked her way.

"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" she screamed, trying to shove past them."THIS IS AN EMERGENCY!"

"What is it?!" Agarby shouted, stumbling outside, his robes askew.

"THEY HAVE HARRY! THEY HAVE—"

"WHO? WHAT?!"

"THE DEATH EATERS—AT THE RUINS OF RENWICK ABBEY!"

She rushed past the guards and into the tent, desperate to find a broom.

"Ms. Granger, what are you doing?"

"Harry left to help Ronald Weasley!"

She searched a half open trunk, and found a broomstick with a cedar handle.

"We'll gather the forces—"

"I can't waste time," said Hermione. "This is all my fault…I have to find him."

She rushed outside and ignored Agarby's cries of protest.

More soldiers were leaving their tents, hurrying outside to see what all the commotion was about.

She mounted the broom and zoomed forward.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sebastián walk onto the deck of the Dragomir. His golden eyes watched her, almost like he knew something she didn't…but he made no move to stop her.

Hermione looked away from him and shot past the perimeter of the camp.

***

"THEY'VE GOT POTTER!"

Draco stirred.

The two men guarding him were speaking in loud, anxious voices.

So it had happened. The Death Eaters had used Ron as bait, and Harry had gone after him…

Draco felt his stomach lurch.

By tomorrow Hermione would know the truth…

"The Granger girl is gone too."

Draco's head snapped up.

"…stole Agarby's broom and went after Potter."

One of the soldiers left the tent, rushing outside to see what the orders were.

He left the flap open.

Panic consumed Draco as he watched the camp come alive. Soldiers were throwing on their armor. The winged horses were prepared. People were running in opposite directions, gathering weapons and shields.

His heart seized. Hermione was supposed to be asleep until morning.

In the distance he could see the Dragomir.

Nikola was waking the crew, urging them to join her on the deck, and the Arévalos were disembarking, making their way to land.

They shot past everyone at blinding speed, tearing through the woods, Magdalena and Enrique in the lead.

The abbey was kilometers away, but they'd probably reach it before anyone else.

Draco fought against his bindings. He had to leave. He had to reach Hermione before the Death Eaters did.

He remembered she'd stolen a broomstick, which meant she was flying…what if the dementors—no, he refused to think it.

Draco was bound to a post in the middle of the tent. His wand was gone. But there was only one soldier left guarding him now…

Draco screamed like a madman, writhing as though he were in excruciating pain.

The guard approached him. "QUIET!"

There was an explosion outside.

One of the dragons had gotten away from its keeper.

The beast set a whole row of tents on fire.

The guard was momentarily distracted as the disaster unfolded, and Draco saw his opportunity.

He kicked the man in the face.

The guard stumbled back.

Malfoy struck him again, this time breaking his nose.

"Accio wand!" Maloy screamed.

The wand flew out of the man's hand.

Draco muttered a spell and undid the ropes that bound him.

"STUPEFY!" he shouted.

The guard landed on his back with a tremendous crash.

Draco fled the tent.

Everyone was distracted. They didn't notice him weaving through the crowd.

He stole the first broom he could find and shot up into the air. The Dementors surrounded him at once, but he showed them the Dark Mark.

They let him pass.

He had to find her.

***

Hermione flew low to the ground.

Even though she couldn't see them, she could feel the presence of the Dementors above her. They wanted to poison her with fear, they wanted to make her feel like she had already lost, like there was no point in going on…

But she couldn't stop…she kept Harry's face at the forefront of her mind. If she thought of Harry, her hope would remain intact.

She wove in and out of trees, afraid she'd hit something in the darkness.

She didn't know where she was going, Harry had said the abbey was a few kilometers east of the camp, but what if she'd already passed it?

The only way to know for sure, was to fly higher.

Hermione's hands slid slightly on the handle of her broomstick.

She knew she'd have to face the dementors if she left the ground, but she saw no other way.

She jerked the handle up, rising a few inches higher.

The wind pushed her hair into her face, and she narrowly avoided slamming into a tree.

When she regained her balance, she looked up. Black figures darted past the treetops.

She wrenched the handle back down. It was too risky. If the dementors saw her, they would attack. She didn't know how many there were. And if she fought them, she would waste precious time in the struggle.

Hermione felt sick with guilt. This was all her fault.

Hot tears of rage streamed down her face.

Draco wanted Harry dead all along.

Every memory of Draco was tainted, ever kiss he gave her was like a dose of poison that made her stomach twist and unravel.

He knew too much, he could ruin everything, he could—

She saw something through a gap in the trees.

It was the abbey.

She slowed the broom, seeing where she should land.

The night air was still and quiet.

Hermione hit the ground with a thud.

There was no one here. Or so it appeared.

Then she heard a scream.

She froze, terrified.

Two Death Eaters were dragging Ron away from the ruins.

She barely recognized him. His face was caked with blood and dirt.

"Where is it?!" Dolohov shouted.

"I don't know!"

Avery slammed Ron against the stone wall, making him scream in agony.

At the far end of the woods she saw something move in the darkness. Harry appeared out of thin air. He had been watching the abbey from under the invisibility cloak.

Hermione's pulse skyrocketed. She looked furtively around her. More Death Eaters would arrive soon, she was sure of it.

Harry pulled the cloak back over himself, intent on subduing Ron's captors.

 _No_ , she thought. _Stay in the woods, stay in the woods until help comes…_

Moments later there was a flash of red light and Avery was stricken down. Ron yelled. Dolohov turned on the spot, dragging Ron close to him, looking for the assailant.

The Death Eater began blasting curses left and right, sensing someone was hiding in the darkness.

Hermione raised her wand, prepared to stun him. She was several yards away. If she missed, she had no cloak to hide her.

Hermione breathed in deeply. Dolohov wouldn't stop moving. He was relentless, casting curses blindly in every direction. She couldn't get a clear shot of him…

Suddenly, there was a loud thud, and a large imprint was made on the grass next to Dolohov's feet.

Hermione held her breath.

_No, please no…_

Dolohov crouched down and reached out.

The invisibility cloak slid off of Harry's face. Hermione's heart thundered to a stop.

Ron was screaming, Dolohov was shouting….

Harry stood. He and Dolohov raised their wands at the same time.

There was a blast.

Ron fell sideways, and Dolohov and Harry went flying in opposite directions.

Hermione threw caution to the wind, and rushed out of her hiding place.

The allies knew where they were. Maybe if she held the Death Eaters off for long enough, they would arrive in time to help them.

Ron's eyes widened in shock when he caught sight of her. She saw Avery stir behind him. She raised her wand and cursed him. He slumped and lost consciousness again.

She was about to curse Dolohov next when people started materializing out of thin air. Bellatrix Lestrange, Lucius Malfoy, Yaxley…Snape.

Her wand was snatched away.

Snape took hold of Ron, and Dolohov dragged Harry back.

"Why did you come?!" Harry shouted at Hermione. "You were supposed to stay away—"

Dolohov punched him in the gut, and the wind was knocked out of him.

Bellatrix seized Hermione and looked up, pointing at the night sky. The other Death Eaters followed her gaze.

There was someone circling over them.

Hermione caught a flash of blonde hair, and her heart seemed to stop beating as she watched Draco land on the ground in front of them.

Their eyes met and she felt her body go cold.

Bellatrix laughed shrilly into her ear, pushing her forward. "Greet your lover, mudblood."

Hermione's eyes filled with tears.

"No?" Bellatrix said softly. "Pity."

Hermione shut her eyes. She willed herself not to shed another tear. She wanted to hold on to her fury…it was the only way to make it through this. She would not crumble. Not in front of _him_.

Bellatrix pressed her cheek to hers. "Men serve to fulfill whims, fancies, pleasure…trust them and they will use you. Love them and they will ruin you. As he has done to you."

She turned to Draco. "I knew you would break her."

Draco forced a nod, but his hands were shaking.

Lucius stepped forward.

He took Draco's arm and raised it high, facing the other Death Eaters.

" _My_ s _on_ has led us to Potter. Let all of you bear witness. May the Dark Lord reward him beyond compare…"

Hermione felt her chest constrict as she stared into Malfoy's face. She had been so foolish…so blind…

Draco heard his father speak, but couldn't make out anything of what he said. He was struggling to remain standing. Hermione was looking at him like she wished he were dead…

Lucius spoke again but Draco wasn't listening. He gripped his wand. He was going to blast Bellatrix away from Hermione's side—he didn't care if they killed him afterwards—

"THEY'VE CAUGHT UP TO US!" Dolohov shouted, pointing at the woods.

Everyone turned.

Sebastián's coven was breaking through the trees.

Adrenaline rushed through Draco's veins.

"You don't need Granger or Weasley," he said quickly to his father. "Leave them—let's take Potter and go."

Hermione looked over at Dolohov. His hold had loosened on Harry slightly. There was an odd look on the Death Eater's face…almost like he'd been confunded.

No one else seemed to notice. They were too busy looking at the Arévalos.

Beside her, Draco was panicking. His father wasn't listening to him. He had to take matters into his own hands. It was now or never…

He turned to Bellatrix and raised his wand slightly. She was distracted, staring intently at the approaching vampires…

He opened his mouth to curse her, but his father seized his arm. "Are you mad?!"

Draco tried to twist away from him. "LET GO OF ME!"

Behind them there was a loud BANG.

Harry had stolen Dolohov's wand. He aimed it at Snape.

"Everte statum!"

Snape flipped backwards and Ron slipped out of his grasp.

"RUN!" Harry shouted.

Yaxley knocked the wand out of Harry's hand. He tackled him to the ground.

For a few seconds, Ron stood stunned, staring down at Snape.

The other Death Eaters were screaming instructions, horrified that the vampires were drawing closer.

"Run you stupid boy," said Snape, in a voice barely above a whisper. "Run now…"

Ron looked at him in shock.

"GET OUT OF HERE!" Hermione shouted.

Ron looked up at her, then his eyes traveled to Harry's face.

Harry nodded at him, still pinned down by Yaxley.

"YOU CAN'T HELP US!" Hermione shouted. "GO!"

Ron backed away from Snape.

He half-limped, half-ran towards the Arévalos.

Dolohov stepped forward, raising his wand high.

"Leave the Weasley boy!" Lucius shouted. "We _must_ leave _now_!"

Dolohov pulled Snape to his feet and they disapparated together.

Hermione felt everything shift around her as Bellatrix grabbed her arm.

Next to her, Harry and Yaxley disappeared. Then Lucius and Draco.

Everything was fading, she was vanishing too…

The Arévalos were only feet away now.

Hermione saw Enrique dash towards her. She lunged forward, and he reached for her hand. The tips of his fingers touched hers. But it was too late…

Hermione was sucked into the vortex that Bellatrix had created.

She disappeared into the night sky, leaving Ron and the Arévalos behind.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Thank you for patiently waiting for this new chapter! I'm aiming to continue my bi-weekly updates. Sometimes work delays me a bit, but the good news is I've outlined the remaining chapters (there's about seven left). I promise I will see this story through to the end. As always, thank you for reading :)


	17. Chapter 17

The Death Eaters were shouting.

Something had altered their plans…

"Where is Avery?" Dolohov asked.

"He was still unconscious when we fled the abbey," a voice said. "Probably dead now…"

Hermione looked over at Harry. He was struggling against Yaxley, but the wizard held a firm grip on him.

She expected Bellatrix to imprison them in Greymoor Castle, the infamous fortress Nikola had told her about…but instead they arrived in a dimly lit street.

In the distance there was a winding lane that led to an old house.

The Death Eaters moved towards it, but at once, Bellatrix deemed it unsuitable, urging them to change location once more.

Hermione caught Harry's eye just before everything around them shifted again.

She was not used to apparating this way, without clear focus or direction….

She felt an invisible band tightening around her chest. Her eyeballs were forced back into her head, her eardrums pounded loudly…

She lost count of how many times they vanished and reappeared, each time somewhere new: a dilapidated bridge, an old country inn, an abandoned railway station…

Moments later she landed on the ground with a thud.

"Hurry!" Dolohov shouted.

It was colder here than anywhere else they'd gone. The icy chill seeped into Hermione's bones, making her shiver.

Bellatrix forced her upright.

She heard the sound of crashing waves, and the distant clap of thunder…

They were standing in the middle of an island.

In the distance was an old, medieval tower that overlooked the ocean. It was tall and looming. The crumbling ruins of an old castle were behind it, and a large moat surrounded the perimeter.

"Why have we come here?" Yaxley snapped, looking up at the clouded sky. He turned to Bellatrix. "We should have taken them to Greymoor—"

"Do _not_ question my judgement!"

"The Magical Alliance has never managed to break through—"

"We can't take the risk!" Bellatrix shouted. "Not with those devils on the loose. We can't lose Potter!"

 _The Arévalos,_ Hermione thought.

Bellatrix was frightened of the Arévalos…

"We will hold the traitors here until the Dark Lord sends word," she said firmly.

Lucius turned to her. "The Dark Lord is at Inverness, there was a muggle uprising just before we left…"

Harry and Hermione exchanged glances.

"Dolohov," Bellatrix commanded. "Seek out the McKays, bring us news of the battle. Tell them we have Potter."

Dolohov nodded and disapparated.

Everyone else made their way to the tower.

There was a small boat waiting for them at the edge of the moat.

Bellatrix dragged Hermione into it, closely followed by Snape.

It began to move on its own, rocking dangerously. Hermione gripped the sides of the vessel, praying they wouldn't turn over. Bellatrix grinned at her madly, enjoying her discomfort. Hermione swallowed. She sensed dark creatures lurked beneath the surface of the water…

It began to rain.

Snape's face remained emotionless, unchanging.

Hermione looked at him suspiciously. He had not panicked like the others when the Arévalos had arrived at the abbey…

It was also odd, the way Dolohov had lost control over Harry…it was as if _someone_ had confunded him.

Hermione tried to catch Snape's eye, but he turned away from her.

Beads of water dripped down his sallow skin, and his eyes were like two tunnels, dark and unyielding.

Moments later Bellatrix hauled her out of the boat, and it took a while for everyone to catch up with them.

Hermione was shoved into the tower and pushed up a long, spiral staircase that went on forever.

She tried to catch her breath as she climbed. There were only six Death Eaters. If she and Harry found a way to defend themselves, there was a chance…

When they reached the landing, there was a crash at the bottom of the stairs. Someone had thrown the door open.

They heard footsteps.

They all pressed themselves against the wall, waiting…

It was Dolohov. He had returned, soaked to the skin from the rain.

"The Magical Alliance is attacking our forces," he said breathless.

They heard a distant clap of thunder.

"They laid siege to Voldemort's army at Inverness. They know we have Potter. They want revenge. Sebastián Arévalo is with them. His coven is merciless."

Bellatrix raised an eyebrow. "So it is _them_. And the Dark Lord?"

"He is fighting. Edevane is commanding the army."

"The Arévalos in Britain," Yaxley repeated. "As if we didn't have enough with the Norwegian allies the Order procured."

Bellatrix ignored him. "We must go to the Dark Lord's aide!" she cried passionately. We must take Potter to him at once!"

Lucius scowled at her. "And if the Allies re-capture him in the midst of battle, what then? It's better to keep him here, locked away, until the skirmish is over."

Bellatrix looked at Yaxley. "Take Potter upstairs. We'll wait to hear news of the attack."

Yaxley gripped the hood of Harry's jumper and dragged him away.

"It will be the top of the tower for you, Mudblood," Bellatrix cried, seizing Hermione's arm and leading her up the steps.

Someone moved towards them.

"I'll see to the mudblood, Aunt Bella—"

"NO!" Bellatrix shouted at Draco, looking down at him.

The light from her wand shone on his face, lighting up his white-blonde hair.

Hermione had avoided looking at him since they'd left the abbey. She felt her chest tighten as he stared up at her.

"Handsome, isn't he?" Bellatrix whispered to Hermione. "You should never trust a man with a face like that…with lips that tell lies and eyes that see right through you."

She laughed, turning to address her nephew again.

"You must learn to share, Draco. You've had your fun with her. It's my turn now."

She pressed her lips to Hermione's ear. "Quite the _liar_ isn't he?" she said loudly.

Hermione flinched.

Draco stiffened, looking at his aunt with cold dread.

Behind the mad gleam in her eye, there was an intelligence that paralyzed him.

The way she was smiling at him, it was like she _knew_.

Did she see his failed attempt to curse her at the abbey? He couldn't be sure, it had all happened so fast…

Bellatrix twisted Hermione's arm, making her cry out in pain.

"Go with the others," she commanded Draco. "Make yourself useful. It won't be long until we're expected on the battlefield."

***

Lucius pulled Draco away from the stairs.

"What were you thinking?!" he hissed.

Draco tried to think logically. Bellatrix wouldn't kill Hermione, at least not yet. She would want her to suffer slowly, painfully…she would want her to witness Harry's death…

Lucius shoved Draco into an empty room and slammed the door behind them.

"Why are we _here_?" Draco shouted to his father, gesturing to the stone walls of the tower. "Why aren't we _home_?"

"The manor is too close to London," said Lucius. "The city has become a muggle stronghold. The rebels know of Voldemort, they've learned the names of his closest followers. They know who _we_ are, they know where we live. It's only a matter of time, until they burn the place to the ground."

"So make it unplottable!"

Lucius sneered. "It's not that easy. The muggles know how to detect locations hidden by magic. They've studied us...they found a way..."

Draco looked at him, shell-shocked. He never thought they'd have to hide from _muggles_.

"Why did you raise your wand to Bellatrix?" Lucius asked.

Draco swallowed, searching for an excuse. "If the Dark Lord falls, we would appear merciful—to the Magical Alliance and the Order. If we had spared Weasley and Granger—"

"You must never utter words like that again," Lucius snapped. "The Dark Lord' fall is not a possibility we are permitted to contemplate. If Bellatrix should hear—if she had _seen_ what you were about to do…"

Draco shook his head. "She thanked me for a job well done. She saw nothing, she was distracted."

Draco said this more bravely than he felt. He too feared that his aunt had grown suspicious, but he was not about to share that information with his father.

Lucius struggled to maintain his composure. "Bellatrix is not as blinded by madness as she appears, she often has moments of lucidity that would shock you. I fear she often uses her madness as a cloak, a disguise to slip undetected, to learn our secrets…"

Lucius stepped closer to his son. "You _will_ tell me the truth now. Why did you raise your wand to her?"

"I told you before—"

"DON'T LIE TO ME! I saw the way you looked at the Mudblood—the pallor in your face when she realized your betrayal."

"Father—"

"This is no time for games!"

Draco snapped. "She fell for me, just as you said she would!"

Lucius seized his collar. "AND YOU?!"

Draco was silent.

Lucius cursed him loudly. "You were supposed to manipulate _her_ , not the other way around! You haven't had her yet, is that it? The little Mudblood whore—"

"Don't talk about her that way!" Draco shouted. "She's not—"

"Don't tell me," said Lucius, a warning in his voice. "That you _love_ her…"

Draco stepped away from his father. "You don't understand—"

Lucius looked at him, wide-eyed.

"Listen to me carefully, Draco. They _will_ kill her. You have two choices. Look the other way, or offer to do it yourself. If you do it, you can give her a quick death…the Dark Lord will reward you for delivering Potter and his _precious_ Mudblood friend."

Draco began to tremble. "I won't—"

Lucius grabbed his arm. "I saw you born, I saw you grow…I will not see you die. You _will_ do it."

Draco exploded. "You said nothing when they forced me to take the mark! You said nothing when they gave me this mission! So you will say nothing when I—"

"WHAT?!" Lucius challenged. WHAT WILL YOU DO?!"

"I DON'T KNOW!"

Draco's hands clenched into fists. "But I won't stand by and let them kill her. I won't be a coward like my father!"

Something collided with Draco's jaw. His eyes watered with pain. He was thrown off balance, knocking into the wall behind him.

"I have _always_ protected this family," Lucius spat.

"How can you say that?!" Draco shouted, turning to look at him. "You gave Mother away to Edevane!"

Lucius was silent for several moments. "That was beyond my control."

" _Beyond your control?_ "

Draco stepped closer to him, shaking with suppressed rage.

"Listen to me carefully, father. If I live long enough to have a son, I won't use him as a pawn. If I am lucky enough to have a wife, I won't sell her to the highest bidder."

"And who would you have a son with?" Lucius spat. "With _her_? A Mudblood—"

"Don't call her that!"

"If you help her, the Dark Lord will kill you. And even if you manage to get away, she will hate you now. You can never have her, Draco."

"I know that," he said simply. "But it doesn't mean I have to let her die."

Lucius looked at him coldly. "Then you are a fool."

Draco gave his father a pitying look. It was clear as day to him, that there was only one fool in this room.

"You won't stop me," Draco said simply. "If you tell them the truth, they'll kill us both."

***

"There are still traces of him on you," Bellatrix observed. "He kissed you here…"

Bellatrix let her hand wander down the column of Hermione's neck, where there was a small, red mark.

She laughed shrilly.

Hermione felt a pang in her chest. She and Draco had spent every night aboard the Dragomir together. They were not gentle with each other. Their lovemaking had grown more frenzied as they got closer to home, realizing their time alone was coming to an end.

Draco had bitten down on her neck, on her breasts. He had kissed her over and over, telling her he loved her. He had gripped her so tightly he had left small bruises on her wrist, on her waist…

It was his way of saying goodbye. And she had been too blind to see it.

Bellatrix smiled. "You must learn, little Mudblood, that love will only bring you pain."

Hermione raised her chin defiantly, unwilling to cower in front of her. "Do you not love the Dark Lord?"

Bellatrix raised an eyebrow, surprised at her candor. "Loyalty is not love."

Bellatrix pressed her lips to her ear.

"Do you think me mad?" she whispered.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say anything Bellatrix raised her wand.

"CRUCIO!"

Hermione screamed. It was like someone had poured petrol over her and lit a match. Her bones were on fire…

Bellatrix kicked her and she crashed to the floor, writhing in agony.

"Please," Hermione gasped. "Don't—"

Bellatrix shouted over her. "It is _I_ who helped the Dark Lord with his new killing curse! It is _I_ who finished the spell that drained his enemies of magic!"

She hissed into Hermione's ear. "Brilliance is not _madness_ , although many will call it so."

Hermione shut her eyes…it hurt to move…to breathe…

"I will show you how to please the Dark Lord, how to be his most special pet, but first you must tell me one thing…what is hidden in the abbey?"

"W—what? I don't know—"

Bellatrix raised her wand again, and pressed it to Hermione's chest. "Shall I carve your heart out?"

Hermione's eyes widened in horror.

Bellatrix cackled with unadulterated joy. "After all, it led you astray…it brought you here, to me…"

She looked at Hermione with false concern. "Yes, best to remove it…"

Hermione screamed as her flesh was cut open…

She was choking on her own tears.

"I—I DON'T KNOW!" she screamed. "I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S HIDDEN IN THE ABBEY!"

"LIAR!" Bellatrix shrieked. "LIAAAAAR!"

Hermione struggled against her. Blood was trickling down her chest…

"CRUCIO!" Bellatrix screeched again.

Hermione's body twisted and jerked, her head knocked back onto the stone floor…

Nothing had prepared her for this.

For the next few minutes all she knew was pain, blood and the salty taste of her own tears.

The room went in and out of focus as Bellatrix danced wildly around her.

She heard the sound of her own screams, her ragged breathing, the rush of curses flying through the air…

Her vision blurred, she longed for death…anything to end this madness…

Her body went into shock…it wouldn't be long now…it would all be over soon…

Somewhere very far away, a door opened.

Someone called for Bellatrix.

There were footsteps, shouts, voices…

The door slammed.

Then another pair of hands were on her, dragging her up.

She screamed, the pain in her body blinding.

The person holding her was speaking to her, but she couldn't hear anything over her own cries.

Her head was turned to one side, and she was forced to look into a pair of silver eyes.

She knew those eyes.

Her chest burned with rage.

"DON'T TOUCH ME! DON'T—"

She pushed Draco away with the last drop of strength she had left.

He stumbled backwards.

When he regained his footing he raised his wand.

Hermione shielded her face, attempting to block his curse.

A jolt of pain shot through her. She looked down. The gash on her chest was closing.

Draco was sewing her flesh back together.

He was _healing_ her.

"You're not supposed to be here," said Draco, kneeling in front of her. "You were supposed to stay at the camp."

Hermione leaned away from him, terror on her face. Did he heal her only to cut her open again?

"Why did you follow him?" Draco asked desperately. Why couldn't you stay out of it?"

_Harry…he was talking about Harry._

Draco reached for her arm, but she struggled against him.

"You stole the Founders book!" Hermione cried, finding her voice again. "You told them where we were!"

Draco held her still."I never meant—it was only supposed to be—"

"Say it! It was only supposed to be Harry! You only want them to kill Harry!"

She clawed at Malfoy's face.

"Stop! Hermione—"

He pried her arms apart.

"Listen to me!" he hissed low into her ear, glancing at the door.

He could hear the Death Eaters arguing on the floor below them.

"They're panicking, they're not sure how to get to Voldemort. I'll help you escape…"

_Escape? No, he was only telling her that to keep her calm, to subdue her…_

"I'm not going anywhere without Harry," she said, her gaze fixed on his wand.

_Any minute now Bellatrix would return to finish what she'd started. Maybe Draco didn't have the courage to kill her, but Bellatrix certainly would…_

"I can't help Harry," said Draco. You have to understand, they have my mother prisoner—"

Hermione felt her blood boil.

"Stop _lying_ to me!"

"I'm not lying!"

She would be damned if she let him say another word. She slammed her head into his.

Draco fell sideways, screaming in agony.

Hermione crawled towards him, seizing his shoulders.

"How many times did you look into my mind, without my knowing it?!" she shrieked.

He was silent.

"How many?!"

"I don't know!" Draco said, lifting himself up. He seized her wrists. "More than once!"

Hermione's eyes filled with tears. She fought him again but he pinned her to the ground.

"Listen to me—it was the only way to save my family."

Hermione tried to kick him, desperate to get away.

"I did it for them, Hermione…"

Her eyes narrowed into slits. "So it was my friends or _your_ family. Harry's safety or _yours._ "

"You don't understand—"

" _Y_ ou could have found another way!"

" _What_ way? If there was another way I would have taken it, I swear—"

"I don't care!" Hermione said livid. "I don't care! Get off me!"

Her hands flew at his face again. Draco had cuts everywhere…on his nose, on his lips…but he refused to let her go.

There was a knock at the door.

"Everything alright?" called Dolohov. "Why don't you let me have a turn with her…she has some spirit…but I'll break her."

He laughed and Hermione recoiled.

"I don't need your help!" Draco shouted firmly.

Hermione began to panic again, remembering the way Rookwood had cornered her at Hogwarts. What if Dolohov did the same?

"No one will touch you," Draco said fiercely, feeling her tremble.

She looked at him fearfully, wondering why he was still on top of her.

Comprehension dawned on Draco's face."I'm not here to hurt you! I'm here to help! I want to get you out…"

Tears streamed down Hermione's face. "I won't go anywhere with you! I won't leave Harry!"

Draco looked at her, aghast. "So you would die for him?!"

"YES!" she said without hesitating. "And I would have done the same for you!"

Draco was stunned into silence.

Hermione's chest rose and fell at an alarming rate, she felt like she was going to be sick…

Draco spoke in a low voice.

"Everything Sebastián told you about the old prophecy, I won't say anything to _them_. I'll find a way to get you out. So you can do what you have to do. So you can destroy Voldemort."

Hermione laughed, almost hysterically.

"So that's the reason you want me out? To save your _precious_ hide?"

Draco flinched. He realized she wouldn't hear him out. He was wasting time, fighting with her…he should be finding a way to save her.

"Believe what you like," he said.

Hermione scratched his face. "I HATE YOU!"

"And I love you!" Draco hissed into her ear.

Hermione tried to kick him again. "Don't say that! Not when you've brought me here!"

"I'll help you escape. I'll—"

"I won't follow your plan—"

"If you stay here, you'll _die_."

Hermione swallowed. "I suppose I will, won't I?"

"Have you gone mad?!" Draco cried.

Hermione stared into his eyes, unblinking. Her mind had never been clearer. Her parents, Harry and Ron were the only people who truly cared for her. Her time with Draco had been a delusion.

"It's not enough to survive, if it means someone else will die in my place. I won't betray Harry."

Draco opened his mouth to argue, when he was interrupted by movement outside the door.

"Draco! It's Edevane! He's here!"

Hermione froze, the name sounded familiar to her…then she remembered.

Draco swallowed.

Hermione spoke again. "See if Voldemort kept his promise. See if he returned your mother to you."

Draco stood abruptly, a plan formulating in his mind. "Give me your coat—and your sweater."

" _What_?"

"Just do it!"

Hermione looked at him uneasily, removing the garments. She took the Founders Book out of the coat and clutched it to her chest, daring him to take it from her.

"Hide it," he warned.

Hermione shivered in her thin blouse, looking at him with apprehension.

Draco knew she meant it when she said she wouldn't leave Potter behind.

He would have to change that…but first, there was something else he had to do…

He bolted the door and fled the room.

***

It was difficult to see through the fog that spread on the island.

Yaxley and Bellatrix were speaking in low, anxious voices.

Draco stood by his father.

Moments later figures appeared, led by a tall wizard. His white hair was tied back into a long ponytail. He wore a leather coat, snakeskin shoes, and a long, pointed dagger hung from his waist.

He was agile as a fox even though he was seventy years of age.

Edevane walked towards them with his unmistakable swagger.

He was the only surviving member of the Original Seven—the first group of wizards to take the Dark Mark.

The Dark Lord had killed all the others, but Edevane alone was spared. He survived year after year, decade after decade, and to this day, no one knew why.

"Lucius Malfoy…" said Edevane, giving him a sly smile. "I hope you are well. It's been months since I saw you last."

Lucius looked at him sharply. "If you are _here_ Edevane, then who is commanding our army?"

The old wizard waved his hand dismissively. "Helen and Mason McKay are more than capable of dealing with the muggle rabble. The Dark Lord wants Potter brought to him at once."

Lucius nodded, as if they were discussing a simple exchange of goods. "I will gladly hand him over, once you have returned my wife to me. That was the accord."

Edevane beckoned to his entourage.

A woman in a hooded cloak stepped forward.

Draco held his breath.

Edevane pulled the woman's hood down.

His mother was rail thin. She looked like she hadn't eaten properly in weeks. There were bruises on her neck.

Draco took an unconscious step forward.

Lucius pulled him back, seizing a handful of his robes. "Stay your ground," he whispered through gritted teeth.

Edevane nodded to a wizard on his left, who led Narcissa forward.

She was so tiny, so thin, Draco worried the sheer force of the wind would knock her over. He was forced to watch as she struggled with each step…

"Her company was…most pleasing," Edevane said with a satisfied smile. "I'm sorry to see her go."

Draco gripped his wand so tightly it was in danger of snapping.

When Narcissa finally reached them, Lucius offered her his arm. She clasped it with unsteady hands.

Bellatrix scowled.

She turned to Yaxley. "Fetch Potter!"

Draco noted that for once, he and his aunt were united in their hatred towards someone. She wanted Edevane gone just as much as he did.

Lucius beckoned Draco forward.

He took hold of his mother and pulled her close. Narcissa seized his shoulders, struggling to stand upright.

There was a loud pop, and they all jumped, looking to see who had apparated.

A man in mud-soaked clothes rushed towards them. "The allies are gaining ground. Braaten and the Arévalos have broken through our defenses…"

The man gasped for air, looking around for Edevane. "The Dark Lord says to keep Potter here until he sends word again."

"We must go back at once," Edevane commanded his followers, his cool demeanor gone. He turned to Lucius. "I will return shortly. I trust you can keep Potter under lock and key until then?"

Lucius gave a barely perceptible nod, unable to hide his distaste for the old wizard.

Edevane disappeared. His entourage followed shortly after.

Narcissa collapsed into Draco's arms.

"Take her inside," Lucius instructed.

Draco wasted no time. He lifted his mother up and ran towards the tower.

*******

**One Hour Later**

Something was wrong, gravely wrong.

His mother had grown paler and weaker…

"Did you see that?" Bellatrix asked.

Lucius looked at her apprehensively. "What is it?"

"Something rippled across her stomach—there's something _inside_ of her…"

Draco stared at his mother, horrified. She was lying in a makeshift cot, unconscious.

Bellatrix and his father stood over Narcissa's limp body.

"Well do _something_!" Lucius snapped.

Bellatrix placed her hand over her sister's stomach. "It's a viper of some kind," she said. "It's eating her alive."

 _A parting gift from Edevane_ , Draco thought furiously.

Bellatrix turned to Lucius. "We have to get it out. She'll die within minutes if we don't act now."

Lucius raised his wand.

"Stop!" Bellatrix shrieked. "You'll cut her to ribbons! I'll do it…"

Draco felt like he was going to be sick. He watched Bellatrix cut his mother's stomach open, then with her hand, she reached inside…

He looked away…

There was the sound of something gushing, oozing…

"What's happening?!" he asked his father.

"Here," Bellatrix shouted. "I have it!"

A serpentine creature wrapped around her wrist, hissing and spitting.

Lucius raised his wand.

There was a flash of green light and the creature dropped to the floor, dead.

Over the next few minutes they worked on extracting the poison from his mother's body.

When they were done, Narcissa looked paler than when she'd first arrived.

"She'll need a healing potion," said Bellatrix, threading Narcissa's flesh back together with her wand. "I—"

She stopped when she heard someone running up the stairs.

Moments later Yaxley stumbled into the room. "News from the front!" he shouted. "Helen McKay is outside. We're called to battle. We leave within the next hour."

"What happened to Edevane?" Lucius asked.

"He's fighting, he couldn't be spared. He sent her instead."

Lucius and Bellatrix looked at each other.

"Go on," said Draco, jumping at the chance to be left alone. "I'll take care of mother. I'll make her a healing potion."

Bellatrix rushed after Yaxley, and Lucius took Draco's arm. "Call us if you need anything."

Draco nodded, eager for him to leave.

His father rushed outside and closed the door behind him.

Draco had no intention of brewing anything. He had raided the galley on the Dragomir, and found all matter of vials filled with useful potions.

He had no intention of telling his father or Aunt Bella about their existence, however.

He reached into his robes and pulled out a small blue vial.

He uncapped it, and approached his mother.

Carefully, he tipped the potion into her mouth.

Within the next hour or so she would regain her color. Downstairs he heard the door open and slam shut.

They had let the newcomer inside. He recognized Helen's grating voice as she argued with Bellatrix.

He had very little time left until Potter was taken away.

From what he had overheard, all of them would be expected to take part in the battle. There were six Death Eaters in total, counting himself.

His mother of course, would remain behind.

Six Death Eaters needed to appear on the battlefield…accompanied by Harry Potter.

Draco called for Dolohov, shouting his name over and over until he appeared.

"What is it?" Dolohov asked, rushing through the doorway.

"I need fluxweed, for a healing potion," Draco lied. "I need you to collect it from the grounds. Don't just stand there, hurry!"

Dolohov's eyes flashed dangerously, he had half a mind to make Draco show him the proper respect, but then he spotted Narcissa lying on the cot, near death.

He cursed the fact that he was taking orders from an underage wizard, but he rushed away all the same.

Draco heard his footsteps die away. A few more seconds, and he would follow after him. He turned to get a final look at his mother. She at least, would be safe now. He hoped that one day, he would see her again.

"Fluxweed is not needed for a wound like that," said a silky voice.

Draco jumped. Snape was standing in the doorway.

"You've sent Dolohov on a fool's errand. Why?"

Draco tried to shield his mind, but it was too late.

Snape was twisting and worming his way into his thoughts.

Snape took his time dissecting him, pausing to look at moments that captured his interest.

When he was done, Draco could barely stand upright.

He waited for Snape to curse him, to call for reinforcements, but he never did.

"Your mind is weak. Blind panic consumes you. It is lucky I came upon you and not Bellatrix…or one of the others…"

Snape moved closer to him, closing the door with a flick of his wand. "Tell me, how do you plan to accomplish this all on your own?"

Draco backed away from him, but Snape did not relent.

"The only way for this to work, is if _I_ assist you."

Draco gaped at Snape, sure he had heard wrong.

"Why—why would you help me?"

Snape looked at him, unflinching. "There isn't time to discuss my reasons."

Draco scanned his face. Snape looked like he had no intention of moving towards the door, or calling for the others.

Draco swallowed, building up his courage. "I need you to do two things…"

***

Hermione wasn't sure how much time had passed.

It felt like an hour, maybe two…

She jumped when she heard the door open.

Snape entered. "Get up."

Her senses went on overdrive.

He seized her arm and dragged her outside.

She had to confront him. It was now or never.

"Stop, please," she said, digging her heels into the ground. "I saw what you did at the abbey—"

"You're mistaken," Snape said firmly.

"You confunded Dolohov. You wanted to free Harry, but Ron got away instead."

"Quiet," Snape hissed, leading her down a set of steps.

Hermione could hear the other Death Eaters arguing on the floor below them. Her stomach plummeted. Were they going to take Harry to Voldemort? And if they did, what did they have planned for her?

Snape stopped on the next landing.

He took her hand, and slipped something into her palm.

"Potter can no longer be saved. Use this when the time comes."

Hermione looked down. Snape had given her a small vial.

_What did he mean, when the time comes?_

She hid the vial inside her robes.

_Was it poison? A chance to end her life on her own terms?_

Her stomach twisted at the idea. She was not prepared to give up. There was always a way out…she and Harry would find a way…

Snape opened a door and pushed her through it.

Harry was on the other side, sitting at the far end of the room. He stood when he saw them.

Hermione heard the door slam behind her.

Snape was gone.

Before she knew it Harry was at her side.

His green eyes scanned her face, then he looked at the blood on her clothes.

"You're hurt!" he said, seeing the damage Bellatrix had inflicted.

Hermione couldn't reply, there was a knot in the back of her throat, she was fighting down her panic. Snape had no intention of helping them. They were on their own…

"Harry," she said weakly, "they'll be back soon. We need to find a way to—"

"Shh! Do you hear that?"

There was a loud crash downstairs, something was happening…

Hermione spoke again, certain no one could hear them over the noise. "Why did you go to the abbey on your own, Harry? Why didn't you wait for the allies?"

"There's things you don't know," he said slowly, his green eyes drifting back to hers. "There's something hidden in that abbey, something the Death Eaters want and can't find. Before I left Hogwarts, I told Ron to go there if he was ever in trouble. I knew they would keep him alive if they thought he knew where it was."

Harry paused, trying to catch his breath."But it turns out they would've taken him there anyway, because Draco gave away our location. It was the closest place to the camp, the ideal place to trap us…"

"What's hidden there?" Hermione asked.

"It's better if you don't know—"

"You can tell me..."

Harry stepped closer to her, battling with himself."This is bigger than us, Hermione. I need to know the truth. Would you trust Draco again?"

"No!"

"Do you love him?"

"Yes!" she admitted. "But I'd never go back to him. Not after what he did."

Harry looked at the wound on her chest. "You should have seen through his act. Now he's put you in danger—just look at you—"

Hermione snapped.

"You can't help who you fall in love with, Harry. But I suppose you don't understand. You don't know what it's like—"

Hermione stopped herself, realizing she'd gone too far.

Harry stepped closer to her. "Go ahead, say it. I don't know what it's like to be in love."

She swallowed.

"Well you don't, do you Harry?" she said softly. "I'm not talking about a crush, or a passing fancy like you had for Cho…I'm talking about risking everything for someone…caring for them so deeply it makes you sick."

Harry looked at her with a pained expression.

"You never figured it out, did you?" he said quietly.

"What?"

He shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

Hermione frowned at him. " _Was_ there someone, Harry? Someone you never told me about?"

He took a steadying breath. "It's like you said, I fancied Cho. I didn't love her. I never really got the chance to know her, not the way—" He stopped himself, but decided it was important to surge forward. "Not the way I know you."

Hermione was certain she hadn't heard properly.

Harry stepped closer to her. "I never expected you to feel the same way. And I never wanted you to find out…"

"Why?" Hermione interrupted, completely stunned. "Why did you keep it from me?"

"I didn't want to ruin things. I knew you had feelings for Ron. And I didn't want to hurt him either. I knew the git was in love with you even if he was too stupid to admit it. And I would have been happy for you and Ron, but Malfoy—"

"Malfoy was a mistake, Harry. I'm sorry I trusted him. I'm sorry we're here."

Harry's eyes clouded over. "I was always going to end up here, it was only a matter of time. But you—"

"What do you mean, you were always going to end up here?!" Hermione shouted, fully angry now. "If you die, you deserve to die on a battlefield, not here, not like this. You need to face Voldemort _armed_ …to the best of your ability.

Harry looked at her like it hurt to breathe.

He failed to hide the turmoil in his eyes, the slight shaking of his hands…

Hermione stepped closer to him, looking at his scar.

"What is the last horcrux, Harry?"

His green eyes locked onto hers. He stared at her, gathering his courage, willing himself to tell her the truth.

Hermione waited, a terrible sense of foreboding filling her body.

"I think you know," he said finally. "I think you've always known, deep down, same as me."

Hermione didn't breathe. She didn't dare move.

Harry smiled sadly at her. "Neither can live while the other survives…

He took a shuddering breath.

"Me, Hermione. I'm the last horcrux."

There was dead silence. Hermione gaped at him soundlessly.

"But all these months," she started. "All the work you did to bring together an army…"

Harry shook his head. "The army was never for me, it was for _you_."

She stared at him, paralyzed.

"Does Voldemort know?" she asked slowly. If he did, he'd keep you alive…"

Harry's eyes flashed dangerously. "Do you think I want that, Hermione?! To be kept alive, so he can possess my body if his own fails him? He can never find out. He has to kill me. It's the only way to make him mortal again."

Suddenly, Hermione remembered what Sebastián had told her. Harry was destined to take Voldemort's immortality, but she was destined to take his life. And now she knew why. Because Harry would not survive. She would have to carry on after he died.

She felt her knees go weak.

"No," she said slowly.

Harry grasped her shoulders. "If Voldemort takes over my body, the Allies or the Order will have to kill me. Would you prefer that?" He shook her. Or would you like to be the one to do it?"

Hermione's eyes filled with tears. "You're being cruel!"

"No, Hermione. I want you to see the truth. I can't run from this…"

"How long have you known?"

"Since last summer. Dumbledore told me everything after Cedric died."

Hermione's vision blurred. She hated Dumbledore, hated his lies and secrets, hated him for letting Harry believe he had a chance at a normal life.

"Like I said before," Harry whispered. "It was always going to end this way."

Hermione looked at him, panic-stricken.

Her tears fell fast and free flowing. She placed her hands on either side of Harry's face.

He would always be as he was now. He would never age. He would become a memory. A legend no one truly knew…a symbol for a cause…

Hermione realized how crushing her words had been earlier…telling Harry he didn't know love. She had been so stupid. He had loved her most of all.

Footsteps thundered up the steps.

Harry took her hand, placing it over his chest. She could feel his heart pounding.

"Thanks for being my friend, Hermione."

She shook her head. "Don't say goodbye to me—I can't—"

"Thank you for showing me real kindness. I didn't know what it was like, to have people who cared, until I met you and Ron. I found home when I went to Hogwarts."

They were both trembling. Time was like water slipping through their fingers.

The sound of footsteps grew louder, any minute now someone would burst in on them…to kill them or torture them or take them away…

Harry spoke again, desperate to get a last bit of information to her. "If you manage to escape, you have to go back to Renwick Abbey. Take Ron with you. He'll help you find what's hidden there. Promise me."

"Harry—"

"Promise!"

Her shoulders were shaking. She was choking on her own tears. "I promise—"

The door to the cell flew open, banging against the stone wall.

Malfoy stood on the threshold.

He was dressed in Death Eater's robes.

His gaze fell on Hermione. "You have to come with me, now."

"Over my dead body, Malfoy," said Harry.

He stepped in front of Hermione, shielding her.

Draco slammed the cell door shut. "You don't understand. I can get her out, but she has to leave _now_."

Harry stepped closer to him. "Why help her escape if you're the one who brought her here?"

Malfoy glowered at him. "I didn't bring her here. She followed you on her own. I was only meant to capture _you_ , not her."

"You used her, you manipulated her—"

"Yes, but I don't want her dead."

Harry was silent for several moments.

"Why?" he asked finally.

Malfoy swallowed.

"Because I love her."

Hermione turned to look at Harry, wanting him to understand that she had no intention of leaving him.

"We're running out of time," Draco said desperately.

They could hear Bellatrix arguing with someone downstairs.

Harry stared at Draco, battling with himself.

"I won't leave—" Hermione started.

"You have to go with Malfoy now," Harry said simply."I don't trust him, but he's your only chance. You have to get off this island."

They heard the sound of shouting downstairs.

"We have to hurry!" Malfoy urged. He dashed into the hall to make sure no one was coming up.

Hermione turned to Harry, panic rising in her chest. They were going to be separated…

"I love you," she said. Her voice broke. "Maybe not in the way you wanted but—"

Harry pulled her close, hot tears falling down his face. "Your friendship was _always_ more important to me than anything else. You know that?

Hermione nodded. Words were not enough to tell him how she felt.

"Can I kiss you goodbye?" she asked softly.

Harry's breath caught. "You don't have to do that."

"Please…"

He nodded, shaking slightly.

Hermione tilted her face up to Harry's.

His lips were soft and warm. His glasses pressed gently into her face.

She wrapped her arms around his neck.

He held her past, all her fondest memories…

She felt his loneliness through the kiss…

But also his love…his rage…his courage…his fear…

She realized then, that Harry was braver than all of them combined.

Braver than Dumbledore. Braver than the Order. Braver than the allies. Braver than she could ever hope to be.

Draco re-entered the room and froze when he saw what was happening. He looked away, confused, but decided to give them some privacy.

Not even he could deny Potter a final moment of bliss.

Hermione broke the kiss and leaned her forehead against Harry's, threading her fingers through his dark hair, trying to memorize the feel of him.

He felt so warm, so alive.

They heard more movement downstairs.

"We have to go now!" said Draco. "They're coming!"

"Do what you can to survive," Harry whispered. "But in the end, Voldemort has to kill me."

Hermione nodded. "I understand."

Harry looked at Malfoy. "Take her now."

Hermione's firm resolve broke. Blind panic consumed her. Her vision swam.

"I can't—" she sobbed, reaching for Harry again.

"It's alright," he said, crying. "You can let me go now."

Malfoy seized her waist and dragged her towards the door.

Her knees gave way.

The door slammed shut.

They were in the hall. Draco was handing her robes, a mask…giving her instructions.

She felt like the world was falling down around them, she struggled to listen to him...

"Put these on. You're taking Dolohov's place. We're on an island, there's nowhere for you to run. You'll have to come _with_ us."

Hermione looked down at the robes. He wanted her to disguise herself?

There was a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

_Where was Dolohov?_

She saw dirt and mud on Draco's robes, a welt around his arm.

Draco looked away from her, trembling slightly. Dolohov's body would be at the bottom of the moat by now. No one would ever know…

"Put on the mask and the robes," he said. "Hurry."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't understand—"

"NOW!"

She threw the robes over her head. "B-but I can't apparate, they'll know—"

"You'll apparate with me."

"But when they find me gone—"

"When that happens it'll be too late. They have no plans to take you to the battle, only Harry, and the rest of us are expected to fight. They think you're locked away upstairs.

Hermione looked at him in disbelief.

"When Dolohov doesn't return from battle, the others will assume he died fighting."

"And when you return to the tower?" Hermione asked. "And they find me gone?"

"Like I said, we're on an island. There's nowhere for you to go. They'll think you drowned in the ocean, trying to get away. Or they'll think you killed yourself, preferring to die by your own hand."

Hermione's eyes widened.

"I scattered some of your clothes by shore."

"And you won't be blamed," Hermione said slowly, seeing he had thought of everything. "Because you weren't here."

Someone was calling for Draco downstairs.

"We have to hurry," he hissed.

He helped Hermione tie her mask on, then fastened his own.

"Do you have the potion that Snape gave you?"

"Yes."

"Drink it."

Hermione reached into her pocket for the vial, uncapped it and tipped the contents into her mouth.

She felt a strange tickling sensation, as the potion poured down her throat.

"What is this?" she asked.

Her hand flew to her throat. Her voice sounded rough and low like Dolohov's.

"It's a voice altering potion," Draco said. "It's the best I could do…"

She stuffed the Founder's book deep into her robes.

She ignored the lingering pain in her body, forcing herself to stand tall.

At the last moment Draco thrust Dolohov's wand into her hand.

"Don't attack anyone. Don't try to save Harry. When we get to Inverness, head straight for the allies."

Yaxley came up the stairs just as Hermione threw her hood on.

"We have to go!" he said, spotting them. "What are you waiting for?! _Move_!"

The three of them hurried down the stairs. Everyone except for Bellatrix was already outside.

The rain was coming down hard. Yaxley shoved Hermione and Draco forward, impatient for them to join the others.

Hermione's feet slid in the mud.

She lost her footing and fell face-down.

The Founder's book slipped out of her robes.

"What's this?" said a woman with silver-blonde hair, reaching down to pick it up.

Draco grimaced. _Helen McKay. He had almost forgotten she was here…_

"I confiscated it," Hermione said in Dolohov's throaty voice. "From a prisoner."

Helen looked at the gold cover. "It looks valuable."

Hermione snatched it out of her hands.

"I will only reveal it to the Dark Lord, only he is worthy."

Helen's eyes narrowed. "Dolohov, is it? We'll address this matter later…"

She raised her voice, addressing the crowd. "We must go! We have no time to waste!"

Draco moved close to Hermione. "I think she believed you."

Hermione looked up at him, thinking of everything they had lived through—at Hogwarts, on the ship, in Segovia.

"I almost believed you too," she whispered, but he didn't hear her over the rain.

"Bellatrix will follow with Potter," Lucius said loudly. "It's time to go!"

Draco took Hermione's hand.

"To Inverness!" Lucius shouted.

Hermione felt a forceful tug as everything disappeared around them.

She closed her eyes as they hurtled towards the distant battlefield, feeling like she had left half of her heart back at the tower, with Harry.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

Thank you for continuing on this journey with me! Reviews are highly appreciated! I always love to hear what you think, and I hope you enjoyed this new chapter. See you next time ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews highly appreciated! Let me know what you think, and I'll see you next time :)


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